Ether for Sale! or, Those Who Hunt Moogles
by Teepeelio
Summary: An old man is ordered by his wife to go to work so begins the tale of the Gak family Ether salesmen. But with the escalating conflict between New Yevon and Youth League, evil priests, summoners becoming pop idols, and drunken Moogles, things look bad.
1. Just before the beginning!

Ether For Sale  
or,  
Those Who Hunt Moogles

Prologue:  
Just Before the Beginning!

"Ah! Excuse me, Miss Summoner!"

Yuna flinched, but turned around smiling. She'd hoped to pass the tiny shop without incident, but it seemed as though that was impossible. Paine and Rikku sat in the background, snickering. Yuna pursed her lips as she walked to the counter, remembering that next time she wouldn't hold back her laughter when one of them got called.

The old man at the desk smiled at her, a hint of pleading in his eyes. She sighed, steeling herself for his sales pitch. It was sad that she had to repeatedly turn him down because he couldn't remember that he'd already asked her, but it still had to be done delicately. He was a very old man, after all.

"Have we met, Miss Summoner? Ah, no matter!" he said, smiling broadly. "You look to be in the midst of some adventure! Perhaps you'd like to purchase a piece of fine equipment? The lovely NotaSword, perhaps? Or maybe my beautiful NotArmor?" The sword did not look particularly lovely, and the armor was certainly less then beautiful. It really didn't look like it'd even been dusted. Ever. In fact, there was a very prominent frowny face drawn in the coating of dirt.

She forced a smile, and started backing away. "No, thank you, I'm in quite a hurry, and I'm not a summoner anymore, but thank you!" When she finally reached Paine and Rikku, she punched each of them in their arms and stalked off. "Thanks for abandoning me!"

"You didn't go up with me the last three times," Paine said, waving pleasantly at the old man.

"What a gimmick." Rikku shook her head. "W'ont Wor'ky's NotaShop. I really hope he doesn't need the money."

Yuna sighed. "Really, we should just go buy it, even if we never use it. He only has the two pieces of equipment-"

"No," Paine said emphatically. "Rikku already donated our 'Pity Money' to the Chocobo Liberation Front." She walked faster, passing Yuna. "Besides, you still owe me for what you donated to the Home Reconstruction Fund."

Yuna's jaw dropped. "T-that was for a good cause!" Rikku clapped Yuna on the back, and nodded fiercely. "Yeah!"

"But it was my Gil," Paine said, waving , continuing off down the Mi'iHen Highroad. "C'mon, we're almost to the Travel Agency."

Behind them, W'ont Wor'ky sighed heavily. "Hmm, I'd better work on my pitch."


	2. Squeeze the Mog!

Ether For Sale  
or,  
Those Who Hunt Moogles

Chapter One:  
Squeeze the Mog!

Jymbo Gak was not a man to mince words. He looked his wife Anuella straight in the eye - no easy feat since she was at least a foot taller then him - and said emphatically: "No."

He reconsidered after she beaned him with a frying pan. "Perhaps."

He reconsidered again after she beaned him again. "Okay," he said from his place on the floor.

"And take your grandson with you!" she howled. "You need to spend some time with the boy."

Jymbo Gak stepped outside his hut, and glared around at Kilika. "Bags to you, you old bat!" he grumbled as he walked to the bar. The young girl behind the counter gave him a bag of ice and smiled knowingly. He scowled a scowl that had seen better days, and stalked outside, ice pressed to his head. When he reached the wharf where the ferry would stop, he sat down. He waited, fuming, until the ice was all melty and running down the side of his head.

What his wife had demanded of him was this: "Go to work!"

Now, it should be noted the Gak family had never been the most avid workers, even before the days of Sin, when their livelihood was repeatedly killed by Fiends. But now, as his wife would repeatedly bonk into him, things were different. There was no longer an excuse not to work. Sin was gone, and Spira was a different place.

(A much different place,) he thought bitterly, watching temple guards scrambling, Al Bhed rifles in hand. Machina was becoming more and more commonplace, and while it made no difference to him - the Gak's had never been much for church-going either - it was still a bit odd to see Yevonites carrying forbidden Machina. (Sign of the times, or hypocrisy?) he wondered.

"... What was that?" a guard growled, coming at him. The two guards walking next to him grabbed his arms, pulling him back Jymbo scratched his head, and realized he must've been thinking out loud. Shrugging it off, he got to his feet.

"What's the matter?" he shouted. "Got a guilty conscience, you dirty-lying-hypocritical-Sin-loving Yevonite?!?!"

The guards holding back their comrade let him go, dusting off their hands symbolically. Jymbo raised his fists, grinning maniacally. Some might say an old man in overalls and floppy hat who was shorter then most Hypello had no right walking unarmed into a fight with New Yevon soldiers, but Gak's usually left things like 'reason', 'common-sense' and 'strategy' to those good at it.

A Blitzball shot out of the water, bouncing off the guard's head, sending him flying off the pier and into the water. A young man flipped out of the water, landing lightly on his feet and spinning to face the guards. He held out two fingers in a victory sign. "OH YEAH!!!"

The two other guards looked him up and down, and cracked up, falling on their backs with hysterical laughter.

Jymbo cleared his throat, and tapped the young man on the shoulder. "You left your shorts in the water, Teityr my boy."

The man looked down, turned bright red and leaped back into the water. Seconds later he reemerged, fully-clothed; an open blue shirt, over a pair of black trunks, and blue sandals. "All right!" he yelled, reaching to his belt, and grabbing air. He frowned, feeling around, and looking about himself quickly. "Er, uh, Grampa, a little help?"

Jymbo shrugged. "Don't ask me. I don't know what you did with it."

At this point, the semi-altercation had started to draw some attention. Most of the young people were members of the Youth League, a faction that'd sprouted up once word of Yevon's misdeeds spread amongst the citizens of Spira. Despite the fact that Jymbo and his grandson were facing off with New Yevon guards, almost everyone took the comical antics to be a joke.

Jymbo smirked. "Only man in Spira that can lose his _weapon_," he said. He held up a finger suggestively, causing a group of girls watching to laugh uproariously.

Teityr whirled on him. "HEY! You shut your mouth!"

One of the guards managed to regain his composure, and took the boy by the arm. Teityr grabbed the guard, flipping him over his shoulder and into the water. The other two guards lifted their rifles, and started firing. Jymbo and Teityr bailed over the side, landing with a big splash in the water. The two emerged beneath the pier. Jymbo grinned evilly at his grandson. "Y'know, this is much more entertaining then work. Your grandmother would've thought so too, a couple of years back."

Teityr scowled. "If you hadn't picked this fight, I wouldn't have had to rescue you!"

The old man looked around as he treaded water. "Hmm."

"Don't say it!" Teityr snarled, grabbing onto the planks above him, and pulling hard. It collapsed, and one of the guards fell through. Teityr grabbed his rifle, and pulled himself back up. Raising the rifle, he smiled at the last guard. "Dance," he said, pulling the trigger. Nothing happened.

The crowd laughed again, and the guard scowled, apparantly feeling the laughter was at his - or perhaps New Yevon's - expense. He tried to lift his rifle, but Teityr lunged forward, swinging the gun down and to the right, slapping the soldier's gun away. He bashed his head against the soldier's viciously, then staggered backwards, dropping his weapon as he stumbled around dizzily. The metal clang of head-on-helmet action echoed through his skull.

The crowd exploded in laughter. The New Yevon guard fumbled with his helmet, which had gotten stuck over his eyes, blinding him. Teityr fell on his backside, and could only watch in stunned amazement as the last guard walked straight off the pier.

Jymbo finally was helped back up after all his yelling and spluttering finally caught someone's attention. He stepped in front of his grandson, and bowed grandly. "Now, if you please, ladies and gentlemen, could you show your appreciation for our little act by throwing a few Gil our way?"

Teityr got to his feet, rubbing fiercely at the lump appearing on his forehead. "Act?"

A few people threw gil, but most started dispersing as soon as money was mentioned. Jymbo counted what he'd caught in the palm of his hand, and flipped one coin towards Teityr. "For your effort, sonny."

Teityr arched an eyebrow at it, not letting go of his head. "Thanks. I'm sure it'll stop the swelling."

"Maybe not," Jymbo said, walking past him quickly and snatching the coin from his hand. "But it'll sure buy us passage on the ferry."

Teityr said nothing, sticking his tongue out at his garndfather's retreating back. he looked around for a place to sit, and found himself a large crate. He was staring at his feet, resting his head in both hands, when he saw his Blitzball roll up next to him. He looked up, and swallowed hard.

"Hey," Iya smiled at him, her hands folded behind her back. She paced along the dock, graceful and beautiful, even in a simple white skirt and tied-up blouse. The young red-head was an orphan, and thereby the only girl in Kilika willing to consort with a Gak, since she had no family to risk humiliating. (She would often say she would've been Teityr's friend regardless of his family history, but the truth of that statement could hardly be judged without altering the past.) "I saw the fight," she said.

"Oh, um, that? I mean, you saw that?" Teityr cleared his throat nervously.

Iya smiled. "Yep. You were pretty cool. Of course, your grandpa was the same as ever."

Teityr tried his best to furrow his brow, but seventeen-year-olds just aren't built for furrowing. He had the feeling she was trying to get on his nerves, but why, he couldn't imagine.

Iya looked away, smiling mischeviously. "You know, there are reinforcements coming from the temple."

"WHAT?!" Teityr howled, falling off his crate.

The red-head nodded. "Tensions are running high between New Yevon and the Youth League. They think you're an activist, Teityr." Suddenly she frowned, looking thoughtful.

(Crap, I gotta get out of here,) Teityr thought. When he noticed Iya's thoughtful look, he braced himself. As children, Iya had always had the ingenuity between them, and it had gotten him into trouble more then once, trying to please her by pulling off one of her schemes. Gak men didn't get much wiser from the day they were born, but they did develop keen senses of self-preservation.

"Teityr," Iya began. "Which side are you on?"

He looked around suspiciously. "Which side of what?"

"New Yevon or Youth League?" she prompted.

He gawked at her. (Didn't she say she saw the fight?) he wondered. (I'm not on any side!) He opened his mouth to answer, but someone else overran him.

"He's on whichever side pays him for our product," Jymbo said, holding another bag of ice to his head. He unslung a strap and flung a heavy-looking pack to Teityr, knocking him down again. "Sorry 'bout the wait kiddo, had to get something from the house."

"Whichever side?" Iya asked. She looked at Teityr disappointedly. "Isn't that kind of mercenary?"

Jymbo snorted rudely. "That, my dear, is good salesmanship. C'mon Teityr, we've gotta run."

Iya pursed her lips, watching silently as Jymbo ran along the dock, and Teityr tried to lift the heavy bag. "Wait -" he called after his grandfather. "Wait!" he said to Iya, who began to walk away.

She shook her head, not looking at him. "I can see you're busy," she said. "And I've got something I need to be doing too."

Teityr dropped the bag. "No wait! My grandpa doesn't speak for me! He's stupid! And old! Iya!" He sighed heavily, watching her sprint down the wooden walkway towards the main part of town.

He took a step to follow her, but a curious whistle emerging from the bag stopped him. He looked at the bag, then back at Iya. Jymbo ran up, huffing loudly. "Son, we gotta run. NOW."

Teityr sighed, picking up the sack. "What's in this?"

"Product," Jymbo said. "Run." He took his own advice, heading towards the end of the pier at a run. Teityr frowned, turning to see if he could spot Iya one last time. What he saw was two dozen New Yevon guards, charging straight towards him.

Teityr made a break for it, catching up with his grandfather easily. "So you know about the guards?" he asked.

Jymbo looked behind them, and yelped. "Yentas!" He shaded his eyes, scanning the horizon. "I do now. What I was worried about, was being late for the ferry," he said. "But I realize too late its not coming today."

Teityr gawked at him, though he was not entirely surprised when his grandfather dropped to his knees and started unhooking a fishing boat from the pier. "Are you stealing that?" he asked.

"He owes me money," Jymbo said, leaping in and grabbing an oar. Teityr glanced back at the guards, biting his lip. "Ah hell," he said, before leaping into the boat. He dropped the pack, grabbed an oar and started paddling furiously. Jymbo turned, grinning maliciously at the soldiers on the end of the pier, and the priest at the head of the line.

"Curse you Jymbo Gak!" the priest howled.

"Your wetnurse had a beard, Mep!" Jymbo cackled back, laughing at the agonized expression on the priest's face.

Teityr sighed, not letting up on his paddling. "We'll never be able to come home, will we?"

Jymbo waved dismissively. "Ha! Yevon'll keep me away from somewhere I want to go the day a High Summoner starts singing pop music!"

* * *

"Achoo!" Yuna sneezed.

"Bless you, lady Yuna," the shopkeeper said courteously from behind the counter.

"What's the matter, Yunie?" Rikku asked quietly. Yuna shrugged helplessly.

* * *

"Yep, that'll be the day, haha!" Jymbo laughed.

Teityr shook his head in disbelief. "Where to, gramps?"

"Luca!" the old man said, "To Luca, and the setting sun!"

"Luca is north of us, kupo," Teityr's backpack said.

"Yeah, Luca is north of here-" Teityr looked at the backpack blankly.

Jymbo clapped his hands loudly. "Ah yes, I remember now!" He reached over, pulling the drawstring and yanking a small creature out of the pack.

"Wha-what the hell is that?!" Teityr exclaimed.

Jymbo leaned close to him, conspiratorially. "This my boy, is a Moogle, and your rightful heirloom." He sat up, picking up the Moogle happily. "Yep, this little baby is the reason Gak's are so famous and world-reknowned!"

"Please don't touch my pom-pom, kupo," the Moogle said pleasantly.

Teityr said nothing, looking from his grandfather to the creature, and back again. "... Are we going to sell it?"

Jymbo looked aghast. "Are you mad? We're Ether salesmen, not Mog-slavers!"

"Ether?" Teityr asked, looking at the Moogle. "So you're saying ... oh no ..."

"Oh yes!" Jymbo laughed. "Welcome to "Squeeze-The-Mog Enterprises! Or 'Etherprises', if you wanna be cute. Now get squeezing, we gotta meet a quota you know."

The Moogle sighed heavily. "Aren't you forgetting something, kupo?"

The old man scratched his chin thoughtfully, before yelling "Ah-ha!" and producing a flask. "You'll have to make it last, Mog my pal, since its all we got until we reach Luca, and a bar!"

The Moogle seized the flask, and downed the contents in a gulp. "(hic) kupopo," it said drunkenly.


	3. The Business Plan!

Ether for Sale  
Or,   
Those Who Hunt Mogs

Chapter Two:  
The Business Plan!

The man named Shaker stepped through the door, looking around at the surroundings. The room could hardly be considered spartan, and was certainly not fit residence for a priest. In fact, most of the items probably had very little reason to be in a Yevon temple at all, "New Yevon" or not. The priest looked up from his desk briefly, and seeing the direction of his gaze, cut him off before he could speak. "If you're going to make any jokes about a vow of poverty, leave."

Shaker swallowed his comment, entering and sitting down. "Your messenger said you were looking to hire us. To track someone, right?"

"That's correct. Can you do it?"

The man looked around. "Well, I'm not sure if you know this, but we're not exactly in the business of hunting men. We're not mercenaries, we're Fiend Hunters."

"Let me guess ..." Mep folded his hands, watching the man shrewdly. "You'll do it anyway, but at an exceptional markup."

"50,000 Gil a piece. Men are not the same as monsters, preacher."

Mep nodded, standing up. "I see." He walked over to a bookcase, and picked up the bottle standing on it. "You know, it would be easy to make you a Heretic, Shaker. New Yevon is not as powerless as some people have come to believe."

Shaker shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "20,000 then. Regular price."

"Oh, well I'm sure we can do better then that. You see, I've spoken with the man's wife." Mep smiled. "He'll have a creature with him. An ugly little thing. You don't need to worry. Its about as dangerous as a stuffed animal."

Shaker nodded. "And?"

"And I want you to capture it, and bring it to me."

The mercenary looked around the room again, growing nervous at the tone in the priest's voice. "Uh-huh ..."

Mep smiled, turning to face the mercenary. "This creature is very rare. I would very much like to see it, before anything unfortunate should occur to it. If you could bring it to me ... well, my gratitude would best be expressed in Gil form."

Shaker nodded quickly. (Maybe I'll make some cash on this deal after all.) "Sure. I'll get it. What about the men?"

"They're Heretics. They attacked Yevon guards without provocation. You shouldn't be in too much trouble if they simply ... disappeared."

* * *

"All righty my boy! First: firmly grasp the Moogle!" Jymbo said. Teityr made a face, and reached over to the intoxicated furball, picking him up. "Next: Hold him over the bottle!" Teityr did as he was told, praying all the while to whatever gods existed. (Please don't let this be gross, please don't let this be gross...)

"Lastly!" Jymbo leaned forward excitedly. "Grab his Pom-Pom and squeeze!"

"WHAT?!" Teityr shrieked, dropping the Moogle onto the deck of their little boat. It made a whistling noise before snoring and rolling over.

"The red thing on its head, Teityr! What did you think I meant?" Jymbo's eyes widened as he stared at his grandson. "Maybe I should give you an anatomy lesson..."

"THIS!" he shouted, tapping the red object protuding from the Moogle's head. "This is its Pom-Pom! It has nothing to do with the sexual reproduction organs of this creature!" Jymbo turns and points at you. "So there, you lemon-loving pervs!"

"Who're you talking to?" Teityr asked.

"Nevermind!" Jymbo said. "Secondly, THIS!" Jymbo waved at the rest of the Moogle, before tapping it on the belly, causing it to giggle in its sleep. "This is the rest of the Moogle! There's nothing else to know!" Jymbo sat back and waited.

Teityr hesitated, examining the Moogle. "How long have you done this, Grampa?"

"Since I started, my boy, since I started. If you're asking about the business, then its existed for nearly a thousand years! Yep, right about the time Zanarkand fell, the Gak family began trading in Ether!"

Teityr leaned back, impressed. It was the first time his grandfather had spoken about something coherent in all the time he could remember. "So where did you get Mog?"

"Moogles are an exceptionally long-lived species, always assuming noone does anything to shorten that lifespan," Jymbo said. "My father gave him to me when I was just a boy. Yep, I had to live in the doghouse, day and night, fending off the wild Fiends which wanted to eat my tasty Mog."

Teityr nodded, not quite sure if his grandfather was being truthful, and also seriously disliking the manner in which he called Mog 'tasty'. The old man yawned and stretched. "Anywho, Ether is always in rare supply in Spira, what with everybody fighting Fiends all the time. You need to keep your MP up, my boy. Its our job to make sure everybody gets the Ether they need."

He reached into a pocket, and produced an extremely large stack of papers. "This are the order forms."

Teityr took the top page, skimming it quickly. "Grampa, these are at least seventy years old!"

"Tch. You sound just like your grandmother. Can't a man take a break?!" Jymbo folded his arms sullenly. "Think she'd be glad I wasn't a workaholic."

"A seventy year break?!" Teityr exclaimed. "How could you even have been alive that long?!"

Jymbo waved dismissively. "Forget the date, and get to work. I'm gonna take a nap."

"But Grampa-" Teityr began, only to be cut off by a loud snore. "Gramps-" Another, louder snore. "I have a question-"

"I said _SNORE_ Dammit! Leave me be!" Jymbo shouted, rolling over and covering his face with his floppy hat.

Teityr scowled, and grabbed the Mog. "Fine." He did as his grandfather had said, and squeezed the Pom-Pom tentatively. It smooshed like a wet sponge, excreting a silvery goo which dripped into the bottle. The Moogle stirred, and giggled, and then resumed snoring. A bubble appeared out of its nose, swelling along with his breath.

"And you need to lay off the sauce," Teityr told the Moogle, which grumbled something rude before saying "kupo..."

Teityr sighed, and got to work.

* * *

"I still dunno boss..." Ormi shook the device roughly, banging it against the counter several times. The Sphere Finder did nothing, already beaten beyond repair by the rotund goon's previous attempts to make it work. "It ain't saying nothing about a Sphere -"

"Be quiet you fool!" Leblanc snapped, batting him on the head with her fan. "Do you want to wake everyone in the building?"

Logos emerged from a back room, gesturing quickly. Leblanc and Ormi ducked behind the counter and entered quickly. The room was empty, and had easy access to the ventilation system.

"Brilliant work!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands happily. "How did you manage it?"

"Rin has recently left on a business trip, and the fool working the counter was easy enough to trick..." Logos shrugged. "We have plenty of time."

"Uh, I still don't get what we're doing here..."

Leblanc smiled evilly. "We're getting back at those idiot _Dullwings_ for making a mockery of us, and stealing that Sphere right out from under YOUR noses!" She whirled around and started climbing the desk, fighting with a grate.

Ormi and Logos exchanged knowing glances, but wisely kept their mouths shut. When the vent was open, Logos helped Leblanc climb inside, and stood watch with Ormi.

She crawled on her belly, the vent a little tighter then she'd expected (not that she'd ever admit it). She glanced down through the first vent into the bathroom, and saw the man from the counter enter, a magazine rolled under one arm. She blushed furiously and continued on. The next grate was Paine's room, the third Rikku's. Finally she reached the room she'd wanted, and popped open the vent, sliding out and landing heavily (not that she'd ever admit it) on her backside. She bit back a yelp, covering her mouth with both hands. 

Yuna groaned, rolling over in her sleep, and Leblanc let out a sigh, sneaking to the edge of the bed. She began searching the pack on the floor for the Sphere her goons had lost. There was no sign of it.

(Damn!) she thought. (They must've sold it already!) She glared at Yuna, fuming, before something on the dresser nearby caught her eye. Frowning, she examined it quickly, before grinning. She snatched the Garment Grid, and made her way to the door silently, fighting a fit of excited giggles. She ran down the hall, and reached the lobby. "C'mon boys," she said. Ormi and Logos emerged from the back, hands held high.

An Al Bhed with a rifle held them at gunpoint, one hand holding up his pants. "I knew I couldn't trust you! You had to be a _damn_ _thief_, because anybody'd who'd be willing to trade pictures like that just to 'look around' is-" he stopped, staring open-mouthed at Leblanc. "Holy-! You're the chick from that magazine!"

Leblanc's eyes widened when she caught the state of the Al Bhed's pants, and the magazine in question being held precariously between pinkie and ring-finger of the hand holding the rifle. Her mouth worked futilely to speak. Logos was shaking in his boots when he cleared his throat. "I, uh, distinctly recall you saying you didn't care how I distracted him, revenge was the most important -"

"I'll KILL YOU!!!" she shrieked, launching herself at Logos. The attendant and Ormi backed off, watching in amazement as Leblanc beat Logos head into the floor and choked him at the same time. Ormi glanced at the Al Bhed, and read his nametag.

"So, uh, Ropp...can I see that magazine?"

"Fine," Ropp said, passing it to the henchman. "This is much hotter!" he said, grinning.

Leblanc glared up at Ormi, who dropped the magazine instantly. He raised his hands defensively, and tried to back away, but was pinned between the counter and the wall by his girth. "Uh, boss! Its not what it looks like, I swear!"

She hissed like an animal, and tackled him as well, beating him into the ground. The door burst open, and Paine, fully-dressed, entered the lobby, sword in hand. "What's going on here?!" she demanded, as a sleepy Rikku came out behind her, in yellow pajamas with Moomba's printed all over them, rubbing her eyes with one hand, holding a knife in the other.

"What's yawn happening?" Rikku asked.

Ormi, Logos and Leblanc all leaped to their feet, and Leblanc regained her composure instantly. "You've all been bested yet again by Leblanc, loves!" She fanned herself proudly.

Paine hesitated, looking at Rikku, who shrugged. "Who?" she asked.

Ormi and Logos fell down, but Leblanc only flinched. "You stole that Sphere from us in the Calm Lands!"

"Hey!" Rikku shouted, "We didn't steal anything! We got there first!"

Paine shrugged, amused. "That's how it goes. You win some, you lose some. Try not to take it so hard next time."

"Win some, you lose some?!" Leblanc snarled. "Well you're the losers this time, loves!" She held up the garment grid she stole from Yuna's room. "And this is the instrument of my revenge!"

"Hey!" Rikku said.

"Give it back," Paine growled. "Or you're gonna get hurt."

"Want it?" Leblanc grinned. "Come to Luca and get it. "Boys?"

The two goons threw down two smoke bombs, and when the cloud dissipated, the door to the Travel Agency was swinging in the wind. Paine swore loudly, stalking towards the door, and Rikku ran back down the hall to wake Yuna.

"Damn!" Ropp said. "She snatched my magazine too!"

Paine looked back at him, and smirked. "Pull up your pants, big boy."


	4. First Delivery: Luca Stadium!

Ether for Sale  
Or,  
Those Who Hunt Moogles

Chapter Three  
First Delivery: Luca Stadium!!!

Gonzo Ronso was hiding out on the docks, avoiding the rest of his team. He was supposed to be practiing for the Blitz season, but he had more important things to do. Gonzo was blue, nine feet tall, three hundred pounds of pure feline-esque muscle ... and an avid Yu-Gi-Oh collector. At the moment Jymbo and Teityr arrived, he had his card collection spread across the deck, and was carefully alphabetizing every last one. He also sorted them by monster, magic, or trap, then sub-organized them by element, type, level of stars, and whether they had an effect. For those readers who've never played Yu-Gi-Oh, lets just say that he spent a lot of time and effort into sorting his entire collection into a single ultimate deck, a massively time-consuming and painfully difficult task.

Not to mention, an extremely expensive endeavor. (Not that your dear author would know...Ahem.)

"Look out! Land ho!" A tiny voice squeaked, though Gonzo knew it to be the human equivalent of a Ronso howl of fear. He perked up his ears, and looked around. Not seeing anyone, he continued shuffling. "For godssakes, if you love life, flee the deck now!!!" the voice cried, having come a little closer. Gonzo looked up again, and peered around the dock. Still, he saw nothing, He shrugged again, and returned to his cards, vowing not to pay attention to the next sound the squeaky voice made.

"NNNNOOOOOOO!!!!!" the voice cried, and then there was a soft _thump_ of wood knocking lightly against wood. Gonzo sighed, and stood up, proceeding to the side of the dock, and looking over to investigate the source of the noise. The fearful eyes of Jymbo Gak peered up at him, so wide they swallowed his entire face. Teityr frowned at his grandfather, and looked apologetically at the Ronso.

"He's a little old, so please forgive him," Teityr asked, bowing respectfully to the massive Ronso. He then tapped the side of his head, and pointed to his grandfather.

"Shush!" Jymbo hissed, slapping Teityr across the back of his head. "The slightest vibration, such as the vocal chords making a sound just a mite too loud might very well bring this whole city down upon us."

Teityr frowned, putting his hands on his hips, and arching an eyebrow at his grandfather. Gonzo Ronso watched the entire exchange silently, observing everything that was said before quietly stating one sentence. "Silence, tiny man." He proceeded back to his cards, and seated himself with a soft _whump_.

The dock collapsed entire, crashing into the water thunderously.

After several minutes of floundering about, Teityr and Jymbo crawled out of the water, gasping for air. Jymbo quickly jabbed a finger underneath Teityr's nose. "SEE?!" he demanded.

Teityr shook his head. "That makes no sense! That dock is huge! How could our raft break it?"

Jymbo got to his feet, shaking himself dry. "Luca is flimsy," he stated. "I should know, since I helped build the damn thing."

His grandson shook his head disbelievingly "You built Luca? _Shoddily_-built Luca?"

Jymbo stared at him coolly. "I did use any 'shods'. Now c'mon, help me fetch our product before it sinks."

Teityr removed his pack, and set it on the ground. Mog yawned loudly, and crawled out, rubbing his eyes, and grumbling in a surly manner. "You should be more quiet, kupo." The creature wobbled, clutching its head. "I feel sea-sick, kupo ..."

The Moogle hiccupped loudly, before looking at its two masters, leaning over the side of the dock, fishing bottles of Ether from the water. It scanned the area, squinting in the harsh light (harsh to a hung-over Moogle, anyway). There was a tremendous amount of people all talking at once, all excitedly ... somewhere south. With a quick shake of its head, it strove to listen harder. Mog threw another glance back at the two Gak's, before shrugging and meandering off, searching for the source of the sound.

* * *

At the path to the Mi'hien Highroad ... We stumble upon a conversation.

"... I don't think anyone would believe ours is the real Yuna," Paine said, smirking.

"Not dressed like that!" Rikku laughed.

"I didn't ask to wear this ..."

Yuna fought her way up the stairs, the weight of the Moogle costume almost too much. "Whew. Its hot ..."

Paine shook her head, trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile behind her hand. "Shall we finish this before Yuna passes out?"

"We'll be back in two shakes, so be a good Moogle, you hear?"

They ran off laughing, and Yuna proceeded down the stairs, stopping briefly to amuse some children, who danced around her in a circle, chanting "Moogle! Moogle!" She grumbled inwardly, humiliated to be caught in public with this thing on, even though the only people who would ever know (hopefully) were the Gullwings. Brother didn't think poorly of the outfit, Buddy wasn't the type to tease ... But from Rikku and Paine? She'd probably never hear the end of it. She smiled, shaking her head, causing the red pom-pom on the top of her mask to waggle back and forth. "I guess it is kind of funny," she admitted.

"Oh hurry up," she said, hoping they would get her dressphere back. Funny or not, there was only so much she could take.

"You! Get over here!"  
  
"Huh?" she gasped, turning to look at the man calling her. She approached him cautiously, wondering if he was one of the goons from the thief's group they'd fought all the way to Luca. He was standing next to a balloon cart, looking impatient.

"You're here to promote the concert, right?"

"Me?" she asked. "No, there must be some mistake."

"Thanks!" he handed her a bunch of balloons. "And hey, don't screw up."

She sighed heavily as he walked away.

* * *

All in all, for Mog, it was quite uneventful. He strolled down the dock, and defeated a dog and its owner in something called Sphere Break. It was an annoying game, involving a little more math then was good for a sauced-up Moogle, but he randomly picked groups of numbers, and won, somehow. He continued on his way, ignoring the hordes of mother's on their way to the stadium pausing to point him out to their children. He bounced along, looking for some excitement. He'd almost reached the end of the city, when he saw something that made his heart stop.

"Get 'em while they're hot!" the large female Moogle said, handing a balloon to a bystander, an old man who didn't look particularly thrilled.

"Kupo?!" he exclaimed. Hearts appeared over his head, and (in his own mind, at least) dramatic music swelled.

"It's a really nice balloon," she said, passing another off to a small child.

"Kupopo ..." he sighed contentedly, starting to drift towards her, like he was in a dream.

Something snagged his arm, wrenching him back, and suddenly he was staring into an ugly, mustachioed face, which examined him carefully. "I am positively positive that this is our prey, Shaker."

The man named Shaker leaned forward, scratching his chin. He grinned at the face of the little creature. "Didn't think you could escape the Shakes Family, did you? Now where are your masters?"

"Its about shakin' time!" a third voice grumbled, this one belonging to a short, round fellow. "Cram that ugly thing in the shakin' pack, and let's go get that bounty!"

"One last thing ..." Shaker said, grinning.

The tall, skinny one holding the Mog nodded. "The High Summoner's concert! We must attendingly attend!"

"That's right," Shaker said. "We're attendingly-attending the concert ... Wait ..." He reached over and slapped his brother. "Solt, Peppor, we're going to hunt down the Gaks, then collect our money! That's the only reason we're here!"

"I wanna see the shakin' Summoner!" Peppor whined, bouncing from foot to foot.

"And the summoner shakin', if you catch my drift." Solt snickered at his own joke. "She's truly quite fetchingly-fetching, Shaker. I saw her once, on her way through Bevelle -"

"I know what she looks like, dammit!" Shaker growled. "We're not going to see it!"

"I've already got the shakin' tickets ..." The Peppor said, sniffing sadly.

"I wanna see the concert, kupo," Mog piped up. All three gawked at him, disbelieving.

* * *

"You've really got to start learning responsibility," Jymbo said, peering closely at the information desk.

"Me?!" Teityr yelled. "Its not my fault he's gone! He was too drunk to stand the last time I looked at him, much less walk anywhere!"

Jymbo shook his head. "Never underestimate a sauced-up Moogle, m'boy."

Teityr's eye twitched, but he kept his mouth shut and kept looking. "Where could he be?" A cold chill passed over him, the hair on the back of his neck standing abruptly on end. He looked around suspiciously, but all he saw were three men in gold armor passing just behind him, heading towards the stadium. The tall, skinny one had a silly looking mustache; the short, fat one wore what appeared to be a bucket in place of a helmet; the average sized man in the middle looked normal, but unnaturally surly.

"Weird," Teityr commented.

"What's weird?" Jymbo asked, eyeing a passing Al Bhed girl. "I don't see anything weird ... But maybe I should go check her out, to be certain..."

"I just felt cold," Teityr explained, frowning when he saw his grandfather checking out passing women.

Jymbo's eyes lit up, and he jumped around excitedly, ignoring the scantily clad Al Bhed girls. "Your Moogle Sense! Its working!" He clapped his hands happily.

"Moogle Sense?" Teityr asked. "Are you making this up?" Just as he spoke, while surveying the crowd again, he saw Mog pop out of a sack carried by one of the three men, waving his pom-pom happily. His jaw dropped. "There!"

Teityr took off, not waiting for his grandfather to catch up. He reached the bottom of the steps, and took them four at a time. His outstretched arm almost reached the sack, when a huge arm came out of nowhere, clotheslining him viciously. He fell backwards, somersaulting down the stairs. "OW!" he exclaimed, grabbing the back of his head. He looked up to see an evil looking guard glaring down at him. "No free admission," he said.

"But my Moogle!" Teityr pleaded.

The man laughed harshly, and gestured at the other flight of stairs. Someone in a Moogle costume was also turned away. "I hope you're happy together," he sneered.

"But that's not -" Teityr said, and the man turned away. He touched his ear for a moment, and another guard yelled something he didn't hear. The man's uniform suddenly changed to an ugly green frogman costume, and he ran into the building.

"What the ..." Teityr wondered aloud.

* * *

"What can I do for you," Jymbo sing-songed along with the woman on stage, ignoring the protests of the concert-goers alongside him. (Thoughtful of Teityr to help me sneak in,) he thought proudly. (I'll have to make it up to him sometime.) Suddenly guards rushed past him, almost crushing him underfoot. "What the - ?!" he exclaimed. The green frogmen were rushing the stage. People were screaming, howling in excitement as two women landed on the stage, and started fighting the High Summoner.

Jymbo frowned, squinting, trying to see better. "What's going on?"

They defeated her quickly enough, and she rushed off, chased after closely by the two women. "That was odd," he thought aloud. Suddenly, someone landed on the ground in front of him, nose bleeding profusely. A man jumped on him, punching mercilessly. A full-blown riot started mere seconds later, people fighting everywhere. Jymbo was swallowed up by the storm, his last coherent shout being "Curse you Teityr!"

* * *

"Whew ..." Shaker said, collapsing oto the stairs. "We just barely got out alive ..." He'd barely gotten the last word out, when he was bowled over by his brothers, rushing after the High Summoner.

"Wait! I just want a shakin' autograph!" They chased after her, and Shaker got to his feet in an instant.

"No! You morons! Leave the loot, at least!" The sack came flying at him, and he almost didn't catch it.

The Mog popped out, scowling at him evilly. "I didn't get to see the concert, Kupo!"

"She only sang one song, which was half-over when we went in," he snarled, stuffing the Mog back into the pack. He slung it over his shoulder, and started down the stairs. All of a sudden, an angry looking teenager was in front of him, foot arcing up fast. It caught Shaker under the chin, sending him backwards onto the stairs. The boy snatched the pack out of midair, and pulled out the Moogle.

"Run Mog! Quick, go!" The Moogle obeyed, rushing off in the direction the Shakes had gone. "Not that way!" Teityr cried weakly.

"You have worse problems, kid," Shaker snarled, wiping off his lip and standing up. "Are you ready for some pain?"

Teityr turned back to his opponent with a smirk. "Finally, something I can do."

He ran forward, ducking Shaker's initial blow, and jumping. He twisted, becoming completely level with the stairs, flipping up them in a series of horizontal handstands, until he reached the top. Shaker stared, stunned at the bizarre fighting style. Teityr landed on his feet, and grabbed something out of the hand of a young woman. He tossed it into the air, and spun on one foot.

"My core sphere!" the woman yelled.

"... Crap," Shaker said. "Wish I'd saved."

Teityr's foot lanced out, catching the sphere, and sailing it at tremendous speed. It glanced off of Shaker's forehead, the force sending him flying the rest of the way down the stairs. The sphere arced backwards through the air, and landed in Teityr's outstretched hand. With a smile and a wink, he gave it back to the shocked woman before rushing off, making certain to step on the unconscious bounty hunter as he ran.

Teityr skidded to a halt, next to his grandfather, panting. "Did you get attacked?" he wheezed. The little old man was black and blue from head to toe, looking like he was simply one big bruise instead of a tiny man.

"Yes!" Jymbo snarled, but didn't elaborate.

""I think they're after Mog," Teityr said, finally regainging some composure. "Where is he?"

Jymbo pointed sulkily, and Teityr looked, seeing Mog curled up next to an empty Mog costume contentedly. It looked to have been ditched hastily, and from the way Mog was cuddling with it, he hoped the owner was long gone. He frowned, and started towards the little creature. "Mog? You okay?"

The creature sighed, and got to his feet. He patted the costume on the butt, and winked. "I'll call you, kupo."

Teityr stared at the sky, wishing he had never heard that remark. Gunfire distracted him, and he thanked his ancestors in the Farplane for that, at least.

"Damn!" Jymbo shouted, grabbing Teityr and pulling him to the ground. "The Luca Crips are at it again!"

"There's no such thing-" Teityr tried to protest.

"No time!" Jymbo ordered.

They all ducked, shielded from sight (and stray gunfire) by several large crates.

Shaker skidded to a halt, still rubbing his forehead and whimpering quietly. He paused, peering carefully around the deck, but not seeing anyone, he continued running down the walkway.

Eventually, the sounds of fighting subsided, and Jymbo allowed Teityr to stand. "Damn Gunners," he swore. Teityr arched an eyebrow at him, but didn't ask. Mog hiccupped loudly, and both Gak's looked at him. Without prompting, he relayed the story of his mog-napping.

"The Shakes Family ...?" Teityr said.

Jymbo nodded, 'hmm'-ing loudly. "Yes ... A band of ruthless thieves, no doubt."

"Fiend Hunters, kupo," Mog interjected. "Hired by Mep."

"Yes, _thieves_, who's only intent must be to stop us from delivering our precious cargo..."

"They want to kill you, kupo. For Mep."

"Indeed: I'm certain there is nothing too deep about this incident, just a random group of miscellaneous thieves. No one in the background pulling the strings ... certainly not an old enemy of mine, humiliated by me for time immemorial, looking for revenge by destroying my family's legacy ... Just thieves ..."

Like an old man (which he was) Jymbo prattled on, and like a hung-over Moogle (which he was) Mog kept impatiently correcting him. Teityr sighed, taking up his pack and walking off, delivering the order of Ether to the information desk. The woman eyed him suspiciously when he handed her the crumpled and faded order form, but she accepted it anyway, knowing she had no choice. After all, Ether was in huge demand. Even with Sin gone, there would always be Fiends ...

Teityr returned to his grandfather's side. "Where to next, pops?"

Jymbo shook himself out of his rambling, and snatched the order forms from Teityr. He peered over them carefully, making a big show of his thinking. "To the Mi'Hien Highroad, and Bob's Walking Shack!"

Teityr chewed on his lower lip quietly, thinking. Finally, he sighed. "Bob's Walking Shack doesn't exist anymore."

"What?!" Jymbo exclaimed. "Since when?!"

"They were bought out by an Al Bhed guy ... I don't remember his name. I'm sure we could convince them to pick up the order."

Jymbo nodded briskly. "Well then, to some Al Bhed guy!" he shouted, pointing off in the distance. Teityr suppressed a smile, and started walking off towards the Mi'Hien Highroad; which lay in the opposite direction his grandfather was pointing.


	5. Second Delivery: Mi'Hien Highroad Travel...

Ether for Sale  
Or,  
Those Who Hunt Moogles

Chapter Four  
Second Delivery: Mi'hien Highroad Travel Agency!  
aka, The Great Fiend Migration!

"Y'know Teityr," Jymbo said, pausing long enough to huff exhaustedly. "Sometimes I wonder if you're really my grandson."

"I told you, I'm not wasting my money on one of those stupid hovers." Teityr stumbled, barely catching himself. He bent over, breathing hard, head between his knees. "Its ... not ... that ... far ..."  
  
Jymbo's eye twitched. "Ungrateful brat ... forcing your poor old grandpa into that vicious mob, and now making him walk the entire length of the Mi'hien Highroad ..."

"You can't blame that concert fiasco on me! And if you're so upset, why don't you use your money?" Teityr asked. Jymbo sputtered incomprehensibly, and Teityr smiled knowingly. "You don't have any do you?"

"Because!" Jymbo yelled, indignant. "I ... I'm ... saving for our room at the rest stop!" He nodded to himself, apparantly needing reassurance. "Bet you didn't think of that, did you!"

Teityr patted the pouch on his belt. "Actually, I did."

Jymbo's mouth worked, and his eye twitched until Teityr wondered if his grandpa's head would burst. Finally the old man spun on his heel, and started down the road at a brisk pace, not saying anything.

"Of course, neither of us would be this tired if you'd thought to bring along some weapons," Teityr said out loud, reprimanding himself. They'd sprinted almost half the trip, trying to outrun a Shantak, which was joined by several Iron Giants, and then some Wild Wolves, and so on and so on until it seemed the entire Fiend population of the HIghroad was chasing them down. Of course, the Gak family was well-accomplished at fleeing, though it wasn't a trait much respected by the rest of Spira.  
  
The sun was setting fast on the horizon, and Teityr could still hear the yips and yowls of the Fiends tracking them up the path. It wasn't that much farther - he didn't think. It'd been some time since he went to Bob's Walking Shack, a traveller's shop which travelled up and down the highroad. It'd gone out of business right around the time the last High Summoner made her legendary pilgrimage. Teityr didn't believe the new owner had a moving traveller's shop; it didn't seem to be a very smart way to do business.

Once more, the closing yelps and howls cut into his introspection, and Teityr started jogging. Wherever or whatever the shop was now, he hoped it was close.

* * *

"What a shakin' disappointment!" Peppor snarled.

"Indeed," Solt agreed sadly. "Not one autograph. She was whiskingly whisked away too fast."

"Jeez, I'm so shakin' sorrily sorry," Shaker growled, putting as much sarcasm and mockery as he could into his voice. "Here, lemme showingly show some shakin' brotherly comfort!" He whapped Solt in the nose, knocking the poor skinny fellow on his backside. Peppor -deceptively quick for his large and stocky frame- made Shaker work for it, but in the end, Shaker popped him in the nose as well. "The next time you freakin' jerks abandon me, I swear, I'll - I'll!"

"Rippingly rip us a new one?" Solt asked, dazed.

"Pound us into the shakin' dirt?" Peppor asked, equally dazed.

Shaker's eye twitched, and he forced himself to take a deep breath and count to ten. "I swear," he began again, "I wll give you the largest pay cut you've ever heard of."

Both his brothers gasped, shocked by his blasphemous statement. He nodded. "I see that we understand each other."

* * *

Anuella Gak lifted the bubbling kettle from its place over the fireplace, and uncovered it, taking a deep whiff of the aroma. "And that my dear," she said proudly, "is how you make boiled Ochu."

A tendril raised out of the pot, flailing around helplessly before trying to seize the burly woman, who just laughed and beat it back in with the lid. "Guess its a little under-cooked."

Iya swallowed hard, doing her best to keep her distance from the kettle. "It ah ... certainly smells ... interesting ..." she said.

"Oh my, yes." Dropping the lid on and setting the kettle over the fire again, she wiped her hands on her apron and returned to the kitchen table. "I personally can't stand the stuff, but Jymbo and Teityr eat it like its going out of style."

With the harmful concoction safely tucked away, Iya moved carefully to the table and seated herself across from Anuella. "So you were telling me about Teityr?"

"Yes, yes." Anuella pulled out a deck of cards, and began shuffling quickly. "The boy was much like his grandfather. About the only thing he's interested in is Blitzball. Grew up saying he was going to join the Kilika Beasts. I'm still not a bit surprised he hasn't tried out yet, however."

"He ... hasn't?

"No ... I really think he has his heart set on something else. Losing his parents in that last attack by Sin ..." Anuella shook her head and laid out the cards. "He would've joined up with the Crusaders then and there if Jymbo hadn't stopped him."

Iya stared at her lap, listening quietly. Anuella continued. "But he's getting over it, I think. He'll make a fine Blitzer if he applies himself."

"But um, if he wants to be a Blitzer, why is Jymbo taking him out with him?"

Anuella chuckled. "It would make Jymbo proud to no end to see Teityr pick up the family business. But Teityr isn't the type for that sort of life. He'll never feel right if he doesn't follow his dream ... course, he'll feel guilty if he does try out for Blitz and disappoints his grandpa. And Jymbo ... he hasn't enough work ethic to carry him through with washing that stupid hat, much less selling Ether." She waved dismissively. "They'll be back before the end of the day."  
  
Iya tugged at her skirt fretfully. "I ... I called him a mercenary. I didn't think he cared about what's happening. New Yevon is hiding everything they know, just like before."

"That's religion for you," Anuella said, starting her game, laying the cards out for Solitaire.

The door shuddered as someone banged loudly. With a grumble, Anuella started to stand, when Iya waved quickly. "I'll get it, Missus Gak."

"Thank you dear," Anuella said, sitting down again.

Iya almost reached the door when it burst inwards, and Yevon guards trained rifles on her. She stopped cold, staring at the Machina fearfully. "Missus Gak!"

Mep shoved past the soldiers, and lifted his hands in the prayer. "Anuella, so nice to see you again."

"Are you going to do this everytime Jymbo leaves the house?" Anuella said, not looking up from her card game.

He continued as though he hadn't heard her. "Unfortunately, your husband has been involved in terroristic activities. Assaulting loyal soldiers of Yevon. Allying himself with Youth League scum."

Iya's fists clenched angrily when he looked her over, making certain she knew the insult was for her.

"Oh please." Anuella folded her hands across her belly and leaned back. "You know Jymbo hasn't the motivation for that sort of thing. You're just making excuses to try your hand at seducing me again."

Iya's jaw dropped at the same moment all the soldiers did. Mep just smiled and shook his head. "Anuella, we're seizing your home until we finish our investigation. You're welcome to stay at our temple ... I wouldn't want a woman of your ..." he licked his lips lasciviously, "... _status_ to be subjected to the trickery of the Youth League."

Jymbo's wife laughed loudly, and slapped her knee loudly. "Your boys can search around me. You better warn 'em though ..." She grinned toothily and clacked her teeth together.

"Kilika girls are born knowing how to handle men." She went back to her card game. Iya looked back and forth between her and Mep, who was shivering furiously.

"Turn it over," Mep said when he regained control. "And make sure to search this Youth League pup. No doubt she's got something to hide."

"Mep, do you remember the last time you ruined my card game?" Anuella asked softly, not looking up. "... I can see your hair never grew back."

He grabbed his head, the sound of his hand slapping against bare skin echoing loudly through the house, and he hissed, "This isn't over!" He stalked out, and the New Yevon soldiers grabbed Iya roughly, searching her a little more thoroughly then the situation merited. Then pushing her to the side, they began to ransack the house, ripping off cupboard doors and flipping over the furniture.

Anuella continued her card game, while Iya stood in the corner, shivering with rage. From where she stood, she could see the tears in Mrs. Gak's eyes.

* * *

W'ont Wor'ky had placed the 'Closed' sign in the window. He sniffed loudly, and scrubbed at his eyes furiously. The Youth League was amassing at Mushroom Rock Road, and he'd tried to sell his wares to each person who'd passed, but to no avail. The children in the League that laughed at him as they ran past was the final straw.

"Grr!" W'ont raised a fist to the air. "Why in Spira should a Wor'ky put up with this?! I need a break." He picked up the carrying case - as a good Wor'ky never left his wares behind - and hefted it onto his back. He set off down the road. The brisk air was starting to make him feel better. Well enough that he tipped his hat to a sentry machina guarding the path, even though he wasn't too fond of them.

His mood dissipated, however, when approaching the Traveller's Rest. A black cloud was forming on the horizon, and several citizens were standing atop a hill just across from Rin's, trying to get a better look.

He squinted hard, trying to understand why everyone was staring. It looked like an ordinary raincloud ... His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. That was no rain cloud, that was -

"FIENDS!" a nimble dwarf howled, charging towards the rest stop. A younger, taller man followed close behind, and just behind him, snapping at their heels, were several dozen of every type of Fiend on the Highroad. Which added up to hundreds, maybe even a thousand Fiends. Sentry Machina hobbled away from the building, and attacked. The two people running ducked past them, and the monster horde swallowed them whole.

Everyone standing near the Inn shrieked in terror, and fled, some barreling over the side and into the ocean, others ducking into bushes, and a few began beating ineffectually on the door to the Traveller's stop.

W'ont Wor'ky started grinning, lifting his case. All he had to do was use the NotaSword and NotArmor to slay the ravaging Fiends, and then his wares would become legendary. he could charge triple price!

He reached for the clasp, but handle suddenly broke, dropping the heavy case. W'ont reached for it again, and took it by the corners, but just before opening it, the two men flew past him, knocking him aside. He stumbled awkwardly, holding onto the case desperately. Barely stopping himself next to the sheer drop that would send him plummeting into the ocean, Won't lifted a hand and wiped at his brow.

"Whew."

The Fiends, ignoring everyone except their prey, knocked Won't over the cliff's edge. _Well, _he thought bleakly, the ocean rushing up to meet him, _I still have my wares.  
_

* * *

"We just passed the Travel Agency!" Teityr yelled, looking back over his shoulder. The Fiends were a wall of black, swallowing (not in the literal sense) everything that got in their paths.

"Nevermind! I recognize the name!" Jymbo gasped. He was too out of breath to explain, and Teityr didn't care enough to ask. As they ran, a bridge gradually came into sight. "Quick! We an jump off there!"

They sprinted ahead, using almost the last of their strength. Skidding to a halt, Teityr grabbed his grandfather's arm. "Are you nuts? You'll get killed!"

Jymbo peered over the edge. "Hmm..." They both looked up as a Machina jogged upthe bridge, placing itself between them and the Fiends.

"FIEND ATTACK...PHASE ONE: SCAN! ...SCANNING..." it said in a loud, buzzing voice. "BZZT! WARNING! TOO MANY TARGETS! PHASE TWO: CALCULATING ODDS...BZZT! PHASE THREE: DEFEND HUMAN LIFE..." It looked at them, and then at the oncoming Fiends. "SCREW THAT!" The Machina turned back around, and rushed for the bridge, leaping off with one last "BZZT!" Jymbo and Teityr followed it with their eyes, flinching when it hit the ground.

"I didn't know a Machina could still function with no legs..." Jymbo mused. The Machina in question was crawling slowly away, pieces trailing from wires dangling from its broken torso.

Teityr dropped to his knees and covered his head. "We're gonna die..." Jymbo grabbed the railing, preparing to go the route of the Machina. "If I don't have legs, I can't do this kind of work!" A little happier then he should have been, he stepped up onto the railing.

The Fiends slowed, and slowed, and the finally stopped about a yard from both Gak's. They stood panting, glaring at the two humans they'd chased for so long. Then, in thunderous union, they all collapsed, and moved no more.

Teityr lifted his head, and gawked. "B-but....that's impossible!" The Fiends were already dissolving into a mass of Pyreflies, flowing into the sky, changing the color of the horizon all the way to Djose.

He jumped up, shielding his eyes from the brightness - so many Pyreflies at once was truly blinding. "Gramps, check this out!"

There was no response, so Teityr turned around. "Gramps?" He swallowed hard, and looked over the edge. "Gramps?!"

"Ow..." Jymbo moaned from far below. "That big thump they all made knocked me down! I've fallen and -"

"Don't say it!" Teityr yelled back. He glanced down the road, and then back up towards the Travel Agency. "Gramps, it'll take too long on foot! I'll head back and rent a hover! I'll be down in a jiffy!"

"Teityr?! Teityr?!" Jymbo howled. "Curse you Teityr! There are Machina down here poking me! Help!"

Teityr stopped at the Travel Agency, and made his delivery. There was a young Al Bhed woman at the counter, who bowed and apologized profusely.

"I'm so sorry," she said, "the former employee here was cowardly and locked the door, shutting several customers outside. He must've lost the confirmation forms for the delivery too."

"Right..." Teityr said slowly. "Yeah ... that's what ... must've happened ..."

"Liar, kupo," Mog said, his voice muffled by the pack. The attendant arched an eyebrow curiously, but Teityr elbowed his pack and leaned over the counter, smiling.

"Hey, I don't suppose you could do me a really big favor, and not tell anyone about that big Fiend chase a while ago?"


	6. Third Delivery: Youth League HQ!

Ether for Sale  
Or,  
Those Who Hunt Moogles

Chapter Five  
Third Delivery: Youth League Headquarters!

"...And that's why the the next time we go to the Highroad, it will be filled with Fiends again, even though we killed them all," Jymbo said. He was riding quite happily in Teityr's backpack, alongside Mog. As Jymbo was only slightly larger then the Moogle,(two Mogs high, in fact) it didn't take much effort to carry the old man. Not that there was much choice...Jymbo had fallen off a bridge, and needed time to recuperate.

"...But you didn't explain anything!" Teityr protested. "You just said 'and that's why'!"

"Please! Take a pamphlet!" A man rushed up, shoving a bunch of papers into Teityr's hands. Jymbo was riding in Teityr's backpack, his legs not up to walking yet, and Mog was riding atop Jymbo's head, disguising himself as a hat.

"Save the Chocobos," Teityr read aloud. He opened the paper, examing the front and back. "Um ... All the pages are blank."

"It symbolizes The Mi'hien Highroad without Chocobos!" the man's female assistant announced fanatically. Teityr studied her face, and the face of her associate, and then the paper again.

"Then wouldn't it make sense to have the first few pages blank, and the last page say Save the Chocobos?" Teityr asked.

"What are you, some kind of choco-hater?!" she yelled, stalking away. The man scowled and followed after the girl, leaving Teityr holding the pamphlet.

"Teityr, give that here." Teityr passed it backwards, and heard something flick loudly. The flaming paper dropped next to him, and instantly set the grass around them ablaze.

"Grampa! What're you doing?!" Teityr yelled, stomping on the fire.

"Teaching you a lesson. Your a salesman, not an activist. You have no use for causes!"

Teityr thought back to the beginning of his journey, and how his grandfather's interference had chased away Iya. Granted, he'd wanted no part in the coming fight between New Yevon and the Youth League, but for Iya ... For Iya, he would do a lot of things he didn't want to do.

"Head out of the clouds boy! Its a long walk to Djose!"

"Especially with a gnome on your back, kupopo."

Teityr shook his head as the Mog and his grandfather started fighting again, and started walking.

* * *

_ATE: Active Time Event!!!_  
_Press Select..._

_

* * *

_

No one in Luca's bar looked at Shaker as he dropped an expensive looking Sphere on the table, and began ordering expensive drinks. Tourists were for the most part ignored by the citizens of Luca. Any one of them could've told you the Shakes family was a bunch of tourists, because no one actually lives in Luca, except the people who remained in the bar, because the door was mysteriously locked.

Quite often, the denizens of Luca's only drinking establishment decided to stay for another drink, because they were unable to get out, and the barkeeper was a Hypello who mysteriously was unable to answer any questions about the door. When pressured, he waved his hands frantically, and ran about in circles, so eventually everyone stopped asking. Being professional bar drunks, they decided it wasn't worth their time, as they could watch Blitz on the Sphere Screen, they had Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters readily available, and peanuts were conveniently placed on the counter in case anyone got hungry. And if someone began to wonder how long they had been there, well, another drink silenced pesky thoughts like that.

As for how the Shakes brothers managed to get inside with the only entrance locked...who could say? After all, everyone who noticed was far too drunk to care.

_"You failed ..."_ Mep's holographic projection scowled, but all it succeeded in doing was making him look as though he'd eaten a bad prune. _"I'm disappointed. Perhaps I should have invested in _other_ bounty hunters..."_

"Yeah, maybe you should have," Shaker said.

"WHAT?"

"Well, for one, kidnapping and murder isn't something we do on a regular occasion." Shaker gestured at his brothers, who were both snoozing at the bar, comically leaning on each other for support. "As you can see, we're hardly prepared for it." 

"But," Shaker continued, "if we had a little assistance..."

"...What kind of assistance? Are you making a play for more money?"

"No. I'm making a play for some Machina." Shaker grinned evilly. "The type of Machina only New Yevon has." Mep's holographic head tilted to the side, eyeing Shaker with suspicion.

"I do have contacts that may be able to provide you with some experimental Machina...but it will put you on the sour side of the Machina Faction. Can you handle that?"

"Those swirly-eyed arrogant pricks?" Shaker raised his fist and grinned evilly. "I owe that spikey-haired punk a bloody nose... What do we have to do?"

"Just leave it in the capable hands of the Syndicate..."

* * *

"What's going on here?" Jymbo asked, grabbing Teityr's head and twisting. Teityr yelped, and turned with his grandfather's twist, trying to keep his head from popping off. With Teityr successfully maneuvered, Jymbo could examine the scene in front of them more easily.

"So what is it?' Teityr asked grumpily.

"The Youth League. There's a ton of guards on the road." Jymbo unstrapped himself, and dropped to the ground, and began running up the road. Teityr turned, astonished.

"You...you could walk the whole time!"

"I have Auto-Potion. I was just tired of walking. Hurry up, we've got a sale to make!"

Teityr sighed, reaching backwards. Mog's hand popped up, handing him a clipboard. He trotted after his grandfather, examining the papers. "We don't have a contract with the Youth League, gramps!"

Jymbo halted several yards away from the guards, who were now watching them suspiciously. Jymbo signaled Teityr over, and whispered fiercely. "This is the next part of your training my boy! A salesman always has to make new customers!"

"Gentlemen!" Jymbo stepped forward, grinning broadly. Several guards put their hands on their weapons. "And gentle ladies," he added, bowing smoothly. Teityr shook his head, and stepped behind his grandpa. The short old man stood again with a grand flourish, and gestured to Teityr. "My grandson and I are on a pilgrimage." He smiled when the soldiers readjusted themselves upon hearing the familiar word. Teityr nearly slapped the old man for the blasphemy he was about to speak.

"That's right, a pilgrimage to save Spira...From jacked-up Ether prices!" Jymbo clapped his hands loudly, and a bottle of Ether popped out of Teityr's backpack, landing neatly in Jymbo's hands. "How many times have you run out of MP while fighting a series of Machina at Bevelle's front gate? How many times has a Black Mage friend of yours been short an Ether while surrounded by Fiends?"

As the soldier's hands began to move towards their weapons again, Teityr nudged his grandfather roughly. "How often," Jymbo asked slowly, "have you been preparing for a strike against New Yevon, and been short on supplies? Machina can only take you so far, my friends."

The leader raised his hand, and the soldier's let down their guard. "All right sir, I'll bite." He held out his hand. "My name is Maroda."

"Jymbo Gak. This is my grandson Teityr."

Teityr saluted as his name was spoken, smiling weakly.

Maroda nodded at him before turning his attention back to Jymbo. "I'd be remiss in my duties if I didn't at least send you along to the base." He stepped back, and pointed to the opening in the rockway. "Clasko? Ahem...ah, Clasko...Please, show this fine gentlemen to the base."

A wimpy looking recruit with a bowlcut approached quickly, beckoning them to follow.

Jymbo smiled and gave Teityr a thumbs up, and Teityr just sighed before following them in.

"The base is through the canyon. Please, beware of Fiends."

"Ha!" Jymbo said too loudly, obviously playing for attention. "Those Fiends had better beware of US! With Gak Ether products, we are like spellcasting machinas...of DOOM!"

Teityr rolled his eyes, and proceeded into the canyon.

* * *

"Spellcasting machina of doom, huh?" Teityr asked between gasps. He laid down next to the elevator, groaning. 

"A good salesman knows how to embellish the truth...I have a high Faith count, I COULD be a spellcasting Machina of doom..." Jymbo was standing, bent over with his hands on his knees, breathing hard. "Course, if I get too much Faith, I'll have to leave the party..." he added.

"You know, nothing you ever say makes any sense."

"...Who are you people?" A young woman said, stepping off the elevator. Her red armor gleamed brightly in the small amount of sunlight the canyon walls allowed in.

"Jymbo Gak, Ether Salesman!" Jymbo shouted, jumping to his feet and posing dramatically. "I've come to offer you fine Youth League-ers a once in a lifetime opportunity!" He clapped his hands, and another bottle of Ether popped out of the bag Teityr was carrying. It flew straight at the girl, and she yelped, ducking. It struck a passing Red Elemental, which suddenly flared with power and burned brighter.

"Um..." Jymbo said, backing away. "My grandson Teityr will take care of this!" He clapped Teityr on the back, pulling off the pack in one smooth motion. "Go get 'im! Make the Gak's proud!"

Teityr glared at his grandfather coldly, before stepping forward. "Uh..." He glanced around, looking for a weapon. "Watch, as I handily defeat the Fiend with..." He picked up a rock off the ground. It was only about the size of his fist. "This...uh...this rock."

The Red Elemental cast a Firaga spell -"Thanks grandpa," Teityr muttered under his breath- incinerating the rock, and setting Teityr on fire. Teityr yelped, and ran around in circles, screaming insanely.

"Stop drop and roll!" the woman shouted, but Teityr ran past her, running onto the elevator. He fell to the ground, unmoving, as it shook and started to rise.

The female officer and Jymbo watched it raise, and watched the Red Elemental turn its attention on them.

"Ah..." Jymbo glanced up at the girl hopefully.

"Hey, I've got a Red Ring on," she said, displaying her hand. "But I'm pretty sure you're gonna die."

"Well, uh...Just...uh...Wait for it..." Jymbo said, as the Red Elemental flared up again furiously.

Something shuddered up above, and the elevator dropped quickly, crushing the Fiend beneath it. Teityr staggered off, woozy and clothes charred, but otherwise looking only slightly worse for the wear.

"Wow," the officer said, impressed. "How did you manage it?"

Teityr smiled weakly. "My flailing burnt the cable. But I had some Ether on me, and was able to cast a Cure spell on myself."

He collapsed in a heap, and Jymbo leapt forward, posing grandly. "See?! Gak Family Ether can make White spells cure even those who seem irretrievably injured!"

The officer pursed her lips, and then shrugged. "Whatever. Go ahead. Uh...if the elevator still works."

Jymbo bowed, thanking her heartily, before leaning closer, whispering conspiratorially, "My dear, if I may ask your name?"

"Elma," she said suspiciously.

"Ah, Elma," he sighed dramatically. "A beautiful name, for such a beautiful lady..."

"If grandma finds out you said that," Teityr said groggily, sitting up.

"She'd only find out if someone told her," Jymbo cut him off, winking suggestively at Elma. She hauled back and punched him in the eye, sending him flying up towards the base.

Teityr followed him with his eyes, and as his grandfather flew overhead, he ended up falling over backwards. "Nice shot," he said, as the world spun around him, making him woozy.

"Men," Elma said, rolling her eyes.

* * *

"The Meyvn is currently at a meeting, planning an important operation." Lucil spread her hands helplessly. "No one else has the authority to bargain on our behalf." 

"Why not?" Teityr asked.

"Well," she said, looking down at Jymbo, "we have established ties with various merchants already, and most of them are donating freely to our cause."

"None of them have Ether, my dear," Jymbo said smugly. He tapped the side of his nose, and winked. "We are the only two Ether salesmen on Spira."

She nodded slowly. "It is quite rare indeed. Our troops have had a difficult time of stealing Ether from fiends..."

Jymbo frowned suddenly, and was about to open his mouth, when the doors creaked open behind Lucil. The light tap of a cane on the ground was followed by a tall man walking slowly out.

"Meyvn!" Lucil exclaimed. "Is the meeting finished?"

"No, not quite yet." He smiled, and nodded at the Gak's in greeting. "We're taking a break."

"Let cooler heads prevail, that sort of thing," Jymbo remarked, voice suddenly different from usual.

Meyvn Nooj chuckled, voice deep and amused. "You have struck straight at the heart of the matter, Maester Gak."

Lucil's and Teityr's eyes widened suddenly, and they both gawked at Jymbo, who merely looked upon Nooj with an even darker scowl.

"Teityr," Jymbo said softly, "if you'll notice, an old family friend of mine is sitting off to the side over there. Go say hello to him, will you?"

"I didn't mean to insult," Nooj said, but Jymbo cut him off.

"I knew what you meant."

Teityr backed away quickly, certain that this conversation was going somewhere he did not want to go. He hurried quickly out of the way, watching his grandfather speak with the Meyvn, but unable to hear what was said. "What did that guy mean, 'Maester'?"

There was a light tug at his trouser's leg, and he glanced down, seeing a very old man in green robes sitting cross-legged on the ground. The old man smiled broadly, and adjusted his spectacles.

"Jymbo Gak has a long and varied history," the old man explained. "I have been lucky enough to make his acquaintance several times over the years. Perhaps you'd like to hear the tale?"

Teityr glanced back at his grandfather, who was waving extravagantly, and obviously speaking very fast. But by Nooj's expression, he understood whatever it was Jymbo was talking about.

"Yeah, I think I'd better."

"Long ago, before the fall of Sin, three friends from Kilika joined the ministry of Yevon. Two young men, and a young lady. Now, this young woman was a person of extraordinary beauty...."

Maechen stopped his story, peering carefully at Teityr. The boy had fallen asleep almost instantly, still standing. The storyteller poked him, but to no avail. Teityr was out cold.

Jymbo walked over, looking grim. Maechen nodded his greeting. "Hello, Lord Gak."

"None of that business anymore, Maechen." Jymbo shifted uncomfortably. "Not in front of the boy."

"But as you can see, he is quite asleep."

Jymbo glanced up at his grandson, then smirked. "Tried to tell him a story, eh?"

Maechen spread his hands. "I forgot how he was. Always falling asleep before a tale has barely begun. How are you Jymbo?"

Jymbo glanced back at Nooj, who gave some orders to Lucil before heading back inside. "I'm not sure..."

"Still selling Ether, I assume?" Maechen inquired. "Might I purchase a bottle?"

Jymbo smiled, and clapped his old friend on the back. "I'll give you a complimentary bottle. Mog, give over." An Ether flipped out of the pack, and landed neatly in Jymbo's outstretched palm. He gave it to Maechen, who bowed gratefully.

"Not like a Gak to give away free product, kupo," the backpack said.

"What do you know?!" Jymbo snapped.

Teityr woke up, blinking in surprise, before sweatdropping. "Uh...Sorry. How long was I out?"

"Its quite all right, my boy. Perhaps some other time," Maechen said, at the same time Jymbo announced, "Let's get going boy, plenty more deliveries."

Teityr bowed respectfully, before running off after his grandpa. "That old guy seemed familiar..."

"Old family friend."

"Oh...now I feel really bad..." Teityr glanced back apologetically.

"Where's the next stop?" Jymbo asked.

"Uh...The road leads to Djose. Except I think Machine Faction is in there now."

"Machine....Faction?!" Jymbo raised a clenched fist furiously. "That means...GIPPAL!!!"

Teityr covered his ears, desperately trying to shield himself from his grandpa's howl. It set a series of events in motion. The shout startled a small bird, who fled quickly, knocking over some stones in its attempt to escape. The stones fell into the canyon, hitting several others, and causing an entire landslide fall into the chasm. Somewhere behind them, a Youth League guard mistook these events for an attack by New Yevon, and sounded the general alarm.

Teityr grabbed Jymbo, and sprinted for the elevator.


	7. Jymbo's Mortal Enemy: Gippal!

* * *

Never _ever_ let me post a story again without having it completely finished before I start. Also, never _ever_ let me (try to) write three stories at once ever again. 

I'm back to work. Seriously this time.  
Eh, its okay. I don't believe me either.

Also, I read the Complete Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy ... I think it shows. Maybe a little too much.

* * *

Ether for Sale!  
Or,  
Those Who Hunt Moogles 

Chapter Six  
Jymbo's Mortal Enemy: Gippal, of the Machine Faction!

Ten years ago...

"Snore..."

Jymbo slapped Teityr awake for the third time. "Dammit boy, I'm not gonna try to explain this again!" Grouchily, he dropped to the ground, sat cross-legged, and folded his arms across his chest, pointedly not looking at Teityr.

"I'm sorry! Something about stories in italics just makes me fall asleep!"

Jymbo and Teityr were sitting at the gated area, where the Mi'hien Highroad changed into the Mushroom Rock Road. Around them, various people stood about, minding their own business. Except for the Prophet, who kept trying to hand them flyers.

"Y'know..." Jymbo thought out loud. "We could zoom right past those Machine Faction geeks if we snagged us a Chocobo..."

Teityr arched an eyebrow. "Haven't you been listening? There aren't any Chocobo's on the highroad anymore. Hovers and Fiends? That loony Prophet has been rambling about it for twenty minutes."

"And lo," intoned the Prophet, "The Big-Chocobo said to the Little Boco..."

"Makes me want to bring them back, just so I can shut him up," Teityr growled.

Jymbo dug around in his pockets, inside his vest, and eventually in his pants. Finally (from his pants) he produced a tiny stone, which he tossed on the ground.

"What's that?" Teityr asked, moving away as inconspicuously as he could.

"This is a Choco-Lure!" Jymbo jumped up, grinning broadly. "Now all I have to do is remember how it works, and summon a Chocobo!"

"But...Why do you keep it in your pants?" Teityr asked.

Jymbo nodded gravely. "That is a long, and rambling story. _It all began one day..._"

"Snore..." Teityr snored, falling over onto the grass.

Jymbo snapped his fingers. "Mog, remember how to use this thing?"

"Use the Choco-carina, kupopo."

Jymbo snapped his fingers, nodding quickly. "That's right! Now where did I put that thing..." He fumbled around in his pants, finding it. "Ah ha! Now...how did that go again?"

Mog dug himself out of the bag, perching atop Teityr's chest. "X, Circle, X, R1, Triangle, kupo."

Jymbo examined the Choco-carina, then glanced at Mog, then examined the Choco-carina again. There were no such symbols on it. "Uh...let's just try...this!" Jymbo smashed the Choco-carina against the stone, shattering them both.

They waited silently, looking from one direction to the next. Neither Mog nor Jymbo could spy a Chocobo. "Hunk of junk."

A Chocobo arrived from the east, peering about in confusion. "Wark?" it asked.

Jymbo and Mog exchanged glances, before waking Teityr and leaping onto the back of the Chocobo. "C'mon boy! Let's go!"

The Prophet kept intoning; by bad luck or fate, his back was to the Chocobo. Everyone else standing there saw it, and tried to point it out, but he just kept babbling.

"And Choco said to Bocobo, Wark-wark warkity wark!" The Prophet waited for applause, but there was no one listening, so he got none. He cleared his throat, completely misinterpreting the situation, and explained, "It loses some in the translation, but the story means we must fight for the noble Chocobo!"

"Uh...Prophet?" his assistant asked.

"Chocobo, away!" Jymbo yelled, and he, a sleepy Teityr, and Mog rode off.

Finally, the Prophet stopped, and held out his hand dramatically to his assistant. Playing up the role of 'savior', as always. He claimed not to enjoy it, but he obviously did. "What is it, Celia?"

She opened her mouth, but then wisely said nothing. "Nevermind. Please, continue."

* * *

_Ten years ago...Calm Lands: Edge of the Scar_

_"Uid uv dra fyo! Mad sa cruud ed!"_ the Al Bhed man shouted. ("Out of the way! Let me shoot it!")

"Shooting it won't help!" Jymbo snapped back, dancing away from the Fiend. It was some kind of giant gray-skinned Behemoth, the fur on its back shock-white, zig-zagged with black. It stood on its hind legs, seemingly impervious to attack. It ignored the bullets bouncing off of its hide and stretched, muscles rippling under leathery skin.

He stabbed at it with his spear, but the point just slid across the hide, not even scratching it. It swiped at him without really looking -both knew he couldn't harm the beast- and started closing in on its real prey.

Mog got groggily to his feet, flapping his wings in an effort to maintain his balance. The Behemoth reached out with a gigantic hand, seizing the little Mog and bringing it to his mouth. Teeth dripping a black, viscous saliva, it smacked its lips hungrily as it tossed Mog into the air.

"Kupopo!" Mog cried.

"No!" Jymbo shouted.

There was a loud click from behind them, so loud it shook even the beast. Then a beam fired, catching the Behemoth, and flinging it over the edge of the chasm, to a screaming death. Mog fell through the dissipating energy, and struck the ground: pom-pom smoking, looking frazzled.

Jymbo ran to his Moogle, picking it up carefully. "You all right Mog?" he carefully patted out the tiny flame on Mog's pom-pom.

"Mog Aid, kupo!" Mog said, gleaming brightly for the second it took the skill to bring him back to health, and becoming his old self again. "Kupopo..."

The Ether Salesman turned and saw the Machina weapon -a massive suit of armor, only slightly resembling an Iron Giant- shaking and sputtering behind them, a trail of flaming grass leading from one of its arm cannons to where Jymbo stood. Then suddenly, it too burst into flames. Someone leapt out of the back, and laughed as his Machina shook itself apart.

"Whoo...that was something, eh?" The young Al Bhed slapped his knees (putting out small fires) and chuckled. "Finally got to test the..." He hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "Okay, so I haven't named it yet. But it still works!" Surveying the damage done to his machine, he cleared his throat. "Well..._Worked_."

Jymbo stalked up, and shoved Mog under his nose. "You! Look what you've done! You know how many Kupo nuts and alcohol its going to take to regrow the burnt hair!"

The Al Bhed scratched his chin, before standing up, and putting one foot on the opposite leg's knee. "Gotta say...he does look much prettier now."

"ULTIMA-" Mog tried to shout, but Jymbo clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Look you damned broom-headed chicken!" Jymbo snapped. "You burnt my Moogle! I demand compensation! And stop standing there like a rooster -you look like you're about to start pecking the ground!"

"Hey old man!" the Al Bhed shouted back. "Don't call me a chicken! Or a broom-head! And I'll stand however I damn well please, you...you... _lnaabo yhleahd vukao!_"

"Creepy ancient fogey! That's it, you...you..." Jymbo frowned, leaning back and examining his opponent. "Who the hell are you, anyways?"

"What!" The Al Bhed reached out and grabbed Jymbo by his shirt. "I've told you nineteen times, my name is Gippal! You hired me to fight off these Mog Eaters; the least you could do is remember my name!"

"Oh yeah, that's right...Well forget it! I'm not paying you! You burnt my Moogle, so you can stick that foot up your ass, and walk like a dumbass chicken all the way to Luca!" Jymbo snorted, slapped away Gippal's hand, and stalked off towards path to Gagazet.

"You...you can't do this!" Gippal shouted after him.

"You're wrong about that, Chumpy!" Jymbo yelled, making a rude gesture just before vanishing out of sight.

"Its Gippal! GIPPAL, you old...bastard!" Gippal turned and kicked one of the unnamed machina's legs (the only piece of it still standing, and not smoldering on the ground).

* * *

The Present

"Why don't you tell Teityr you still haven't paid your debt to Gippal, and that's why you have to run past the Machine faction?" Jymbo glanced at Mog with an arched eyebrow, and the Mog quickly added, "Kupopo?"

"Because, its against the Gak Code of Sales," Jymbo snapped, waving at the road ahead of him. "Now shut up, and help me." Jymbo seized another loose thread from Teityr's shirt, and pulled at it, until he had a healthy ball of string, and Teityr had no shirt. He carefully looped it through some tree branches, and then wrapped it around the Chocobo's midsection.

"How come there was a Chocobo on the Highroad, kupo?"

Jymbo shrugged, grabbing some more branches, and wrapping them around the uncomfortable Chocobo's head with liberal amounts of the stolen thread.

"Why not go make peace with Gippal, kupo? Will I ever evolve into a Moomba, kupo? Why is the sky blue, kupo?"

Jymbo stared at the sky, before grabbing Mog and stuffing him back into Teityr's pack. He leapt up onto the Chocobo, which now hung its head in regret, sorry it had ever come to check on the sound of a Choco-carina being smashed. Jymbo snapped the reins (standard equipment available on every Chocobo) and they trotted slowly down the path.

* * *

Unbeknowst to our noble salesmen, the Shakes family was currently in negotiations with the Al Bhed. And by negotiations, what I mean is... 

"...Give me your freakin' scooter, you swirly-eyed geek!" Shaker snarled, punching out a driver. He grabbed the man, and bodily flung him into some nearby bushes. Solt and Peppor stood gawking.

"What's the matter with you?" Shaker stalked towards them, shoving them back towards the Djose Temple. "Go block the damn path! I can't spend the whole day beating up these people!" He paused, glancing up the road -to where their quarry was unwittingly walking into their trap- and then towards the Machine Faction's temple. "Although..."

"Y-yes! Of course!" Solt said, saluting quickly. "We'll get right on it! Of that you can be certainly certain!"

Peppor wasn't paying attention, as he pushed a Hypello's head back and ran a razor carefully under its chin. Shaker and Solt both stared at their brother, slack-jawed with confusion. With a heavy sigh, Shaker stalked off to set up his ambush, muttering obscenities under his breath.

"Peppor? Peppor, what are you doing?" Solt asked, tappingly-tapping his brother on the shoulder. "We are supposed to be guarding the path from the Temple, so no Al Bhed discover our theft of their technologies."

The heavyset Shakes' brother looked away from the Hypello only briefly. "Don't shakin' know! One shake, he was complainin' about the bandits on the Moonflow, then he asked me to shakin' shave him!" He shrugged, and put his hand on the squirming blue fellow's face, twisting his head to the side. "Got big shakin' wobbly fingers too, so I figured I'd give him a hand."

Solt considered the Hypello, and then nodded. "True, true. His hands are rather ill-suited to hold a razor. Perhaps you should check his chin again...That's where the most stubbornly-stubborn hair resides."

"No, its the shakin' cheekbones!" Peppor exclaimed, turning away from the Hypello. He gestured pointedly at Solt's face with the razor, flicking bits of shaving cream at him.

At this moment, Shaker was daydreaming...his favorite daydream was the one where he imagined what life would be if he were an only child. He sat atop some rocks, resting his chin on his hands and his elbows on his knees, and devoted a great deal of concentration to the daydream. Of course, since he could still hear his brothers argument about shaving, it was an exceptionally difficult task.

It was then that two things happened:

Jymbo's poorly-done camoflague fell out of place, and the branches slid into the Chocobo's eyes. It let out a terrified "Wark!" and began to run back and forth haphazardly, all over the road. Jymbo and Teityr held on desperately, but each time they grabbed the reins they'd cut their hands on the rather thorny branches Jymbo had picked for his camoflague.

And then the second thing happened... three bandits appeared from the path towards the Moonflow, and stood by the traveler's map, scowling about. You probably figured out that the Hypello was not in fact saying "Shave me". He had said "Save me", but figured if he was going to get a free trim out of someone else's misunderstanding, who was he to complain? However, upon seeing the bandits, he panicked, wrestled himself free of the Shakes brothers, and fled into the bushes where he'd concealed his chocobos and his cart. Except...his chocobo was missing.

"Mishing! Imposhibibble!" the Hypello exclaimed, searching quickly under the branches for several terrified seconds, before it decided to do what Hypello do best.

He waved his hands frantically in the air, and shouted, "Shave me! Shave me!"

Gippal stepped off of the bridge -having come to check on his missing workers- in a perfect position to see the pandemonium. An insane chocobo on his left, bandits charging from the Moonflow, a Hypello in the bushes dancing about comically -"Shave me! Shave me!"- and two men struggling through the brush -"We're tryingly-trying!"- in an attempt to reach the blue fellow.

_"Fryd dra...?"_ (What the...?) he began, when Shaker leaped to his feet.

"There they are!" he shouted, pointing at the Chocobo. Realizing abruptly his brothers weren't coming to his aid, he stood in the road, arms spread. He had no choice but to attempt to catch the rampaging Chocobo. "I've got you now, Moogle!"

Aboard the panicky Chocobo, Teityr had seized some feathers on the left side of the Chocobo's neck, and was tugging frantically left, while Jymbo had seized some feather on the opposite side, and was tugging frantically right. They were going to hit someone, since they could only barely control the Chocobo, and each had their own idea about who.

"Stop gramps! That's the guy that tried to steal Mog!" Teityr shouted. Teityr didn't actually want to run anyone down, but he figured better a thief then a stranger.

"And that's Chumpy, the Machine Faction leader!" Jymbo shouted back, a mad grin splitting his face. "Gippal," corrected Mog helpfully. "Whatever!" both Jymbo and Teityr snapped.

The Chocobo finally decided it had had enough, and skidded to a halt, flinging off the Ether salesmen. It then shook off all the branches, lowered its head, and charged forward. Shaker turned his head to follow the flight of the Gaks, while using every obscenity he knew.

With a loud "WARK!" the Chocobo bowled him over, and continued forward, smashing through all the bandits, and the other bumbling Shakes brothers. Only two people escaped the enraged Chocobo's wrath. Gippal -who had simply stepped back, leaned against the signpost with the map and watched- and the Hypello, which reached out with a wobbly hand to catch the Chocobo's reins, and deftly hooked it to his Chocobo-less cart.

The angry Chocobo didn't slow, and dragged the cart along wildly behind it; the poor, shaven Hypello hanging on for dear life.

* * *

(Footnote) I don't dislike Gippal; Jymbo's just a jerk.

* * *


	8. Things to do in Spira

Ether for Sale!  
Or,  
Those Who Hunt Moogles

Chapter Seven  
Things to Do in Spira When You're A Retired Summoner

Paine nudged Rikku, cutting off her snores abruptly. "Huh?" the groggy young blonde asked, squinting up at her friend. Paine shook her head, and held out her hand. "I think Yuna's finally done," she explained.

Yuna strode past them quickly, and Rikku got to her feet. After stretching, she scrubbed sleepily at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I just got to the good part of the dream, too..."

"Rikku, you really should be more polite," Yuna said. "Master Maechen had a great deal of things to tell us about Spira on our last pilgrimage, and I learned a good many things during this conversation as well-"

"Oh, Lady Yuna-" Paine muttered, in a near-perfect imitation of Maechen; Yuna burst into a flat-out run. Paine and Rikku had to sprint to catch up with her, and couldn't stop until she skidded to a halt at the entrance to the Mushroom Rock Road.

Yuna was doubled over, breathing hard, and Paine and Rikku waited, biting their lips for her to speak. After she was done panting, Yuna straightened again, and turned to her friends. "After all," she continued, "our elders have much to teach us."

Her two friends exploded in laughter, Rikku cracking up so much that she fell down, clutching her sides and rolling around.

"...From their own experiences..." Yuna finished lamely, her face bright red. "Oh...You don't think I offended him, do you?"

Paine wiped a tear from her eye, and patted Yuna on her back. "I'm sure he doesn't even remember."

Though it seemed impossible, Yuna turned even redder. "Paine! That's not nice!" Rikku, meanwhile, laughed even harder.

And then they picked up Clasko. Rikku thought about asking him why the wimpy recruit had never taken _his_ advice and became a Chocobo breeder, even though he'd seemed so psyched about it two years ago...but she didn't.

* * *

The Chocobo stopped on the edge of the road, hanging its head, its "Wark!" now a "Wheeze..." There was a few more seconds of struggle, as the Hypello tried to pull his hand free of the reins and lead rope, where he'd gotten entangled during the bizarre events leading to their escape. The Hypello climbed up onto the wagon, and he too, decided to rest. Soon, both he and the Chocobo were snoozing quietly...too exhausted to realize they were right in the middle of bandit country.

* * *

And then they got jobs as diggers. Paine thought Yuna chose it as penance for running away from 'Old Man Maechen', and was going to tease her about it...but she didn't. She didn't know why she'd blown off Gippal...why she'd panicked when she realized Yuna and Rikku might learn something about her. She shook off the feeling. What was done was done, and they still had things to do.

The attention he'd paid Yuna -and even Paine- while giving her the brush-off had set a jealous spark inside her -even though she didn't want to admit it- so Rikku had thought briefly about bringing up an embarrassing story about Gippal her father had told her...but she didn't. He probably had more then a few about her. So she folded her arms behind her head, and said nothing, having (almost) convinced herself that she'd gotten the better of the exchange, remaining aloof and unattainable, instead of snubbed and teased.

Yuna had thought something had been funny about her friend's reactions to the strange Machine Faction leader during the exchange, and was going to speak up...but she didn't. Discretion was the better part of valor: Rikku and Paine were being awfully quiet about what had happened at the Youth League Headquarters, so she could be quiet too. Paine would tell them...when she felt the time was right. And Rikku, well...As long as she stopped teasing her about poor Maechen. The Gullwings started off towards the road again, heads held high.

* * *

Tobli ran back and forth, babbling manically. Passersby stayed as close to the edge of the road, doing their best to stay out of his sight. A few people had recognized him from his various other exploits throughout the years, and word had quickly spread not to get caught up in his mischief. And with the panicked little man running about, talking at such length and such speed that it was impossible to understand him, he certainly appeared to be up to mischief.

However his helpful Hypello assistants tried, no one would stick around long enough to listen to their explanations. They were about to go searching themselves, when there was a odd rustling noise nearby...in the reeds along the Moonflow.

Curious, one wandered to the edge of the flow, and peered in. "Ish shombobody there?"

W'ont Wor'ky, still clutching his merchandise in a fearsome grip, floated alongside the Moonflow, coming to rest among the reeds just as the Hypello called out to him. However, his whole body was bruised and stiff, and it took tremendous strength of will to raise his hand -

- and at that precise moment, a small woman leapt in front of the Hypello, shoving him backwards. "Where's that little rat Tobli! He and me are gunna have WORDS!"

The Hypello raised its arms and fled, with the woman in hot pursuit.

W'ont Wor'ky continued holding his hand up, straining for every last second, before his strength gave out. His hand dropped back onto his chest, the movement submerging him for a moment -

- the same moment a young girl peered into the reeds, also having thought she heard something.

"Uh...hello?" she asked. There was seemingly nothing, so she shrugged and reached out quickly, grabbing the short old woman by the collar and hauling her into the air. Flailing about angrily, the old bat kept snarling and snapping until the girl smacked her on the head.

"Grandma! Will you please behave!" the girl yelled. She rolled bright blue eyes in exasperation, and somewhere, a dozen suitors swooned. ("Somewhere" was actually several feet to her left. They just started following the young blonde one day, and refused to go away, even after repeated beatings by the old woman.)

Eyebrow twitching furiously, the old woman nodded. Anyone who saw them side by side would be startled by her resemblance to Jymbo Gak...right down to the whiskers on her chin. She readjusted her bizarre purple poncho with a snap once her granddaughter set her down. "I managed to get Tobli to admit where our package is. His Hypello is late with the shipment, and if we can go find him while he sets up for his _show_" -she followed this with a derisive snort - "he'll comp us two tickets."

"Great!" the girl exclaimed, clapping excitedly. "I wanna see!" Then she froze, smile slipping from her face. "hey...if you already got that from him, why were you still chasing the poor little Hypello?"

"Kicks and giggles," the old woman answered, pointing towards the road towards Djose. "Let's go! The faster we get this done with-"

"-the faster we can go home!" the girl finished, and the two females charged down the path.

Meanwhile, W'ont Wor'ky -no longer possessing strength enough to move or do anything to save himself- began drifting helplessly away from the shore...

* * *

"I hate you both...so much..." Shaker said, just before shrieking out in pain as his stretcher bounced. "Knock it off! This isn't a race ya know! Its not like we're gonna catch 'em anytime soon!" he snapped, before readjusting his blankets.

"...show you a shakin' race..." Peppor grumbled to himself as he dragged along his brother's stretcher, purposefully aiming for a rock.

Solt followed dejectedly along behind them, kicking pebbles along the path. Shaker had given them both quite a verbal beating -"Cause I can't feel my freakin' hands enough to throttle you!"- and Solt felt pretty down. He was supposed to have been watching the road from the Al Bhed hideout, not playing along with Peppor's strange Hypello-shaving obsession...if he had, he might've seen Gippal, the Machine Faction leader. The Shakes family had a past with the Al Bhed.

As Fiend Hunters they'd gotten plenty of work from Yevon during the days of Sin...but a lot of it had been violent. Roughing up Al Bhed leaders, stealing or destroying Machina, even capturing certain notable figures for Heresy Examiners.

And so, when Gippal had appeared -after watching Shaker turned into paste by that crazed yellow bird- he discovered his missing workers in the ditch -where Shaker had tossed them- and proceeded to beat them all senseless. They'd just barely managed to escape with their lives.

He had to find some way to make it up to Shaker. Someway... "Eureka!" he shouted, gesturing off the road.

"What now?" Shaker groaned.

"A short cut! If we cuttingly-cut through these woods, we can bypass the Moonflow!"

"And what?" his injured brother asked with a glare.

Solt smiled, and raised his fist into the air. "We can reachingly-reach Guadosalam before them!"

Shaker glanced off the road, then at Solt. "Hmm...Mep said, leave it to the Syndicate...The Syndicate is based in Guadosalam..." He grinned evilly, a new scheme working its way through his head. "We can get our Machina and take down those sales-geeks, and get home before sundown!" He slapped Peppor's leg. "Into the woods! Solt, on point! Find us a decent path, and let's get to Guadosalam!"

Solt charged ahead, while Peppor just shrugged and plodded on, dragging Shaker roughly down the path. "Hey!" Solt exclaimed. "It appears someone has already blazingly-blazed a shortcut!"

The branches closed behind them, disguising the "path"...and two bandit guards snickered darkly, following the Shakes family.

* * *

"Ah, here we are!" the old woman announced.

"Shave me!" the Hypello suddenly yelped, startled awake by the sudden noise. "We are under shiege!"

"...right," the old lady said, reaching up onto the cart and seizing her crate. "Tell Tobli he can forget about charging us for delivery."

"Grandma!" the girl exclaimed. "We're not gonna leave this poor Hypello all alone out here, are we? What about the bandits!"

"Eh, I didn't see any."

"That's cause _I_ fought them all!"

"Hypello, you broke our crate!" the old lady suddenly shouted, shoving the crate back onto the cart. "All of it...everything...we can't sell anything like this!" The old woman leaped onto the cart, seizing the Hypello by his neck and shaking him about. "You've ruined us! RUINED!"

"Grandma, stop!" the girl cried, grabbing the old woman by her legs, and tugging ineffectually at her.

_"Shave...me!"_ the Hypello cried in a (literally) strangled voice.

"Ouch," Teityr said, sitting up. Wood chips fell from his clothing, and he immediately set about pulling splinters from his arms. "Ow! Ow! Where the heck are we?"

Abruptly he realized he had an audience, and looked up at the two women. "And, um...what are you doing to that Hypello?" He had struggled for a bit, only just managing to avoid saying "Holy crap, you're gorgeous!" to the young girl.

"GRRRAAAAARRRRR!" the old woman howled, leaping for Teityr's throat. "Grandma, no!" The granddaughter hauled back desperately, keeping the maniacal woman from attacking.

"Um, well, okay!" Teityr said abruptly, jumping to his feet. He dug around in the cart until he discovered Mog and Jymbo, both of which were still KO'd, and -with a lot less effort then you'd think- stuffed his grandpa and his Moogle into his bag, and ran off down the road. "I gotta be going! Bye!"

He ran off as fast as he could, wondering why nothing good could ever happen to him.

"Holy crap, that guy was gorgeous..." the girl said out loud. She sighed dreamily, and a few feet to her left, her suitors cried their lament.

(A few thought to collaborate on a song with which to woo her back...but it won't work.)

"That was JYMBO GAK!" her grandmother howled, her rage rekindled anew. "I should have known! Damn that two-bit Ether Salesman!"

"Jymbo...Gak?" the girl asked, confused. Jymbo was certainly not the name she would have expected fo such a handsome boy. His eyes still made her a little flustered, and she quickly turned red. "Sphere Break, think Sphere Break," she muttered to herself.

"We, the Dub family have always been rivals with the Gaks!" her grandmother continued We sell Elixir, they sell Ether! We can never be at peace! I will destroy him for this!" She abruptly changed tactics, instead of struggling she grabbed her granddaughter and scrambled atop her head, screaming at the top of her lungs. "YOU HEAR ME GAK! I WILL DESTROY YOU!"

"Sorry for the trouble," the girl told the Hypello, tucking her grandma under her arm and setting off quickly down the path towards the Moonflow proper.

There was a moment of confusion, where the Hypello exchanged glances with the Chocobo. It said "Wark?" in a tone that might well have meant, "What now?"

With a shrug, the Hypello answered the only way it knew how. Lifting its arms into the air, it waved frantically, shouting, "Shave me, shave me!"

* * *

...And then they fought some bandits.

When they finished, Yuna began lecturing the bandits, and Paine just sat back, folding her arms across her chest, while Rikku wandered about the tall grass 'searching for Rabites', or so she said. Paine figured she was probably hoping to get out of earshot, so she wouldn't have to hear Yuna's speech for the eighteenth time.

"Y'know Yuna, I'm sure this is really...I dunno...Therapeutic? But can we please go DO something?" Paine asked.

"Now say it back to me!" Yuna shouted, placing the point of Brotherhood beneath the bandit's chin.

"Stealing is wrong," he said with a loud gulp. "And uh...and..."

Yuna raised the sword threateningly. "And!" she demanded, eyes blazing with fury.

"And we should always listen and never run away from our elders!" he cried, curling into a ball and sobbing uncontrollably.

"That's good!" Yuna said, switching back to the Gunner Dressphere in a flash. "All right Gullwings! Its a long way to the Moonflow crossing, and there are a lot of bandits here!" She went forward with a look of determination, and Paine just shook her head.

Rikku came back from the grass, limping. "Hey, I found a whole nest of Rabites."

Paine shrugged. "Better walk it off. Its gonna be a long day."

Somewhere up ahead, they heard a loud cry. "What was that?" Paine asked, putting a hand on her sword. Rikku reached instinctively for her knives, and Yuna pulled her Tiny Bees, running down the path. "Let's go, Gullwings!"

"Shave me!" a Hypello shouted ahead of them, waving its hands frantically.

* * *

(Author's Note)  
Who are the mysterious Elixir Salesgirls? Will I ever write another chapter? Who knows!

Jymbo and Teityr now have faces. And bodies. And stuff. Check 'em out at aquosus(dot)deviantart(dot)com.

The very same Aquosus is in the hospital with a collapsed lung. Send him your well wishes, comment on his dev-art, or review his fanfic, Secret Fields. His author name -as you may have surmised- is also "Aquosus".


	9. The Thousand Enemies of Jymbo Gak

Elixir for Sale  
Or  
The Thousand Enemies of Jymbo Gak

Chapter Nine  
Grandma Dub, Jymbo's Mortal Enemy #24

_From the Sphere Diary of Callo Dub:_

"Your move...Anuella!" Grandma Dub slapped down her cards on the table, grinning toothily at her adversary (which was no mean feat, as she had so few). Anuella frowned over her cards. "You uh...you went first."

"What?" Grandma Dub asked, thrown off by the abrupt change in tactics.

"You just said 'Your move' and then laid out your cards. Which completely makes no sense at all, because it was my turn."

"Uh..." This gave Grandma a bit of a pause. She looked to me, and I buried my nose into my diary, pretending not to pay attention. I still don't know why we came all the way to Kilika...though really, its not as if we could keep journeying, with all our product destroyed, we had nothing to sell. Nothing to sell meant no money for the inn. And Grandma isn't on great terms with the guy who owns all the travel agencies.

"So! Trying to confuse me, eh!" Grandma shouted, leaping onto the table. It was hard not to giggle at the sight of her trying to intimidate a woman ten times her size...and four times mine. My grandma launched into a long-winded diatribe on the perils of confusing a Dub, and from the sound of it, it was a speech she'd given before. Many times.

A large tentacle snaked around her ankle at that point, raising her into the air. I don't know how anyone missed it, as it had stretched across the eight feet from the kitchen. It waved my Grandma at Anuella Gak threateningly, as though it was arming itself for battle. Anuella just reached over and grabbed the tentacle and tugged roughly. It dropped Grandma, and we both stared in horror as Anuella slammed it against the table repeatedly, calmly surveying the cards in her free hand as she did battle.

When she let it go, it slithered back into the kitchen, and Gran and I leaned in our seats to see through the door...and watched as the tentacle replaced a lid on the pot it was trapped in.

Grandma took a deep breath, and I stomped on her foot under the table, not wanting her to ruin my chances at true happiness. Grandma yelped loudly, and grabbed her foot; if Anuella noticed, she gave no reaction.

"What can you tell me about Jymbo, Mrs. Gak!" I exclaimed.

Anuella shrugged, collecting the cards and shuffling them with an ease I was certain was practiced. "He's a lazy bum, a bit of a whiner, he snores, and he hasn't done an honest days work in his life...but I love him all the same."

This time I was the one given pause. "...What?"

Anuella sighed dreamily, resting her chin in her hands like a lovestruck girl -much as I'd been doing since we first arrived at the Gak home- and said, "My husband may be many things, but he's always been good to me."

"Your...husband!" My eyes burned furiously. I don't know when, but somewhere on the long trip from the Moonflow, I'd realized that I'd fallen desperately, impossibly in love with the boy I'd met who was now so far away...and married!

"Excuse me!" I said quickly, painfully aware of my squeaky voice. I rushed to the corner, and cried and cried.

"Uh..." Anuella said. "Why do you ask?"

"Because!" Grandma hissed through the few teeth she had. "That little fart sabotaged my shipment of Elixir!"

At this point they both looked at me, because my wailing set the monkey's screeching from the roof back off towards the jungle.

"Look what he's done!" Granny tsked loudly, trying to be heard over my infinite sorrow. "She had her heart set on this journey."

"Jymbo...sabotage? Hah! He hasn't the motivation to tend to husbandly matters, much less matters of espionage."

"WWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

* * *

Callo put the Sphere into my bag, and sniffed despairingly. Watching herself flee Anuella's home had been just as depressing the second time. She didn't notice a young woman approach until she was standing next to me. "Hey, who are those creepy guys?" she asked. 

Callo glanced up at her, and then in the direction the girl nodded. "Oh..." she said weakly. "Those are my suitors. They're trying to get my hand in marriage."

"All of them?" The girl asked. "There's like twenty guys."

"Hmm. I guess the ones I threw off the docks must've crawled out of the ocean, then."

The girl hesitated a moment, then sat down beside Callo. "So uh...Why are you sitting out here?"

"I just found out the man I love is married to another woman, and I needed some time to think." Callo hung her head sadly, wondering why she was discussing the matter with a complete stranger, as opposed to flinging herself off of the docks next.

_Of course, the suitors would just dive in to save me..._ Callo thought.

"Well...try not to think about it," the girl said. She looked away quickly, realizing how completely unhelpful the advice was. "...My name's Iya, by the way."

"Callo." Callo extended a hand weakly, letting Iya shake it: which she did with an overabundance of energy that was either compensation for being unable to console her, or nervousness from being stared at by so many creepy suitors.

"You should really find yourself a hobby," Iya said quickly. "Something to distract your mind from-"

"-all consuming despair?" Callo interrupted.

Iya hesitated. "Uh...yeah."

Callo frowned. "Yeah...Yeah, you're right, I mean, what does it matter if he was my only love?" Callo leapt to her feet, placing her hands on her hips. "I'm not some...some wimpy island girl that can't do anything except sit at home and wait for her lover to return!"

"Yeah! ...wait, what?"

"I'm going to go out right now, and do something to distract myself from the absolute meaninglessness of life without love!"

Iya stammered. "I...I can do things..."

Callo didn't notice, grinning with newfound confidence. "Thanks Iya!" She rushed off down the docks, leaving the Kilika Island girl behind her.

"You're...welcome..." Iya said sadly.

Half the suitors fled the scene after Callo, while half remained, watching Iya slip into depression. "It seems her heart is broken," commented Suitor #4.

"Indeed," replied Suitor #15. "Such a lovely girl -as lovely as Callo, I daresay- should never be allowed to be sad! We must cheer her!"

"And perhaps, win her love..." sighed Suitor #20.

The first to approach Iya was flung into the ocean, and the rest decided to admire her from afar.

Meanwhile, Callo reached the gates to the jungle, where an old man and a young man were glaring at each other furiously. "Hey, you two! Guys, or whatever!" Callo shouted.

"What?" they snapped back, not breaking their angry staring contest.

"What kind of things are around here for a young girl to do-"

The young man -a Youth League representative- whipped around quickly, a smile breaking out on his face.

"-when she has become bitter, despairing, and old before her time?" Callo finished, beaming at them. The young man's smile slipped away, and the older man leaped in front of him, taking Callo's hand. "Despair? Bitterness? Why, that's what New Yevon is all about! Right this way...I'll need you to fill out some forms..."

"Of course! Religion!" Callo exclaimed gleefully. She allowed the old man to show her towards a conveniently placed New Yevon drafting booth. "Why didn't I think of that?"

* * *

"Hey gramps..." Teityr asked, leaning back in the soft cushy sofa fastened to the back of the Shoopuff. "You ever get the feeling somebody somewhere is confusing you with an evil, dirty little goblin?" 

"All the time," Jymbo said. "Hey driver, are we there yet? Don't spare the whip!"

"Wot?" the Hypello asked as it turned in its seat and boggled its eyes at Jymbo, completely uncomprehending.

"I said snap this thing into gear! Put the spurs to it! Lets go go go!" Jymbo said, hopping in place, his fury mounting as the Hypello continued to stare at him with googly eyes.

"Gramps wants to know when we reach shore," Teityr said, grabbing Jymbo and forcing him to sit. Jymbo folded his arms furiously, but said nothing more.

"Ah. Shoon. Yesh," the Hypello waved his arms at them in a gesture that could have meant anything, and returned to driving.

"See?" Teityr said. "Relax."

"I need a drink," Jymbo said, still grumping with all his might.

"Kupo," Mog seconded. Teityr threw up his hands helplessly. "Fine. Fine. Why don't we just blow all our cash at some dive in Guadosalam, and then head home in disgrace."

Jymbo brightened considerably, clapping Teityr on the back. "Now you're getting the hang of what it means to be a Ether Salesman!"

Teityr just sighed and buried his face in his hands.


	10. Trade Secrets

"These Exiled Years" by Flogging Molly, the band which basically inspired the whole fic.

Ether for Sale or  
Those Who Hunt Moogles

Chapter Ten  
Trade Secrets

"_It's four in the mornin' _

_Battered and numb _

_A loaded room, an empty gun _

_I whistle a tune, I heard years before _

_The clock started tickin' _

_Where did the time go?"_

"Guh..." Teityr raised his head, "Wuz happenin'..." Somebody was singing, and while they did have the tone down right, it was just so LOUD. Every beat was an axe to his skull, savagely pounding ins his ears, eyes, and everywhere else in his head. Slowly, the words started coming into focus, though the world around him was still blurry and spinning. Was he seasick? Could you get seasick on a Shoopuf?

"_I danced to the mornin' _

_She called out my name _

_The wind was a howlin' _

_And down came the rain _

_Her arms they caressed me _

_Sweet was her brow _

_She opened my eyes_

_To banish the doubt..._

_Wash me down in all of your joy..._

_But don't drag me through this again-"_

Teityr squinted, trying desperately to see what was happening, when realization hit him; he wasn't on a Shoopuf at all, he was lying across a table, face sticky with drool. He wiped at his mouth, every motion making him feel sick. "What's...where...who am I?"

"_-I've heard all your sad songs I can hear..._

_It's in with the whiskey and out with the gin... _

_I've heard all your sad songs I can hear _

_It's another day older _

_In These Exiled Years-"_

"Bad one, eh?"

Teityr turned wobblingly to the voice, and saw a bright green frogman standing there. "Froggy?"

"Yep, that's a bad one. Here. Little hair of the Skink that bit you." The frogman handed him a glass, and Teityr squinted at it suspiciously.

"Skinks don't have hair..."

"I didn't literally mean hair. Drink it, you'll feel better. Its got eggs. Among other things..."

Teityr didn't quite believe this, but between the headache and the nausea, he was willing to try anything. He picked up the drink and downed it. In the corner, the music continued unabated.

"_-The dew on the ground _

_Blankets the face _

_Cold was the night _

_And gone her embrace _

_For your land of the free _

_Now prisons me _

_To rot in this jail _

_Of lost liberty_

_Wash me down in all of your joy _

_But don't drag me through this again-_

_-I've heard all your sad songs I can hear..._

_It's in with the whiskey and out with the gin... _

_I've heard all your sad songs I can hear _

_It's another day older _

_In These Exiled Years-"_

As he listened to the music, the pulsing in his brain slowed to the rhythm, and the world stopped spinning. The music stopped being painful, and actually was quite pleasant to listen to. Under other circumstances, he might've even liked it, but he feared that he'd have to avoid it though association with the terrible migraine he'd woken up with, and the no-doubt humiliating circumstances that had earned it.

"How're you feeling now? Better?"

Teityr looked at the person who'd helped him, and realized his savior was still a frog. Or rather, was still dressed like a frog, so at least he wasn't as messed up as he'd believed. The odd uniform had a name sewn on the chest, "Glenn". Why anyone would dress like a frog, then sew their name on it so people would know who they were was beyond him. If he were to dress like a frog, he'd certainly never want anyone to know. A Tanuki, maybe, but that was another thing entirely.

"_-Walk away, watch me as I wave _

_One foot here, but sure the other's in the grave _

_Walk away, walk away-"_

The frog man seated himself, and Teityr found himself fascinated by the other man's goggles. In their reflection he could see two people arguing, and he twisted in his chair to see what was going on. A shifty looking fellow -yet not his grandfather, for once- was getting berated by another man, a skinny fellow with a big grin.

"That little fellow singing has brought everybody back to the inn! And since business is back up again, I don't have to give up my place to you, you...you...you...rumor-monger! Libelist!"

"_-I've heard all your sad songs I can hear..._

_It's in with the whiskey and out with the gin... _

_I've heard all your sad songs I can hear _

_It's another day older _

_In These Exiled Years..."_

"No. Oh no oh no oh no." A horrifying realization had welled up inside him, and Teityr turned around quickly, praying not to see what he expected to see. He knew it was wasted effort, but he kept praying.

"Your grandfather's pretty good. Terrible dancer though. But the ladies don't seem to mind."

Atop a bar on the other side of the room, his Jymbo Gak was dancing if you used the term loosely; kicking his feet wildly, spilling drinks and smashing glasses and patron's thumbs with equal gusto. Oblivious to his hand-crushing antics, a group of women in odd pink frog suits stood nearby, clapping as he finished his song.

Teityr dropped his head onto the table, then repeated it a few more times for good measure. "How long have I been out?"

"Since I got here a few days back. Can you believe that old broad makes us stay in the hotel? Only the guys on guard duty get to stay in ol' Seymour's place. Tch." Glenn the frog man held up a drink in a salute. "The old guy and a Hypello carried you in. Said you spent too much time in the sun on the Shopuf."

"Felt like months..." Teityr muttered, but if the man heard him, he made no sign.

The innkeeper -the skinny guy over there started serving drinks, and then the old dude just jumped up on the bar and started spouting off tunes. People started coming in droves. Lot of Hypello, lot of us Leblanc guys. In fact, we were a bit worried 'til your grampa showed up. Thought the place was gonna close. Data-seller's been pushing the innkeeper hard."

"You work for Leblanc Syndicate?" Teityr searched his scrambled brain, trying to figure out why the name was ringing bells in his head, but came up empty handed. It wasn't filling him with warm feelings however.

"Yeah. Don't bother signing up though...its not great work. I mean, you've got the fanatics that are in love with the old bat -don't tell anybody I called her that, or Ormi will eat me alive- but really, the job is pretty much about getting paid minimum wage to have real Sphere Hunters kick your ass. But enough about me. What do you guys do?"

"Uh...we sell Ether."

"Ether Salesmen. Now that's something." It was hard to tell from the tone of the frog man's voice whether he really thought it was something or whether he was simply being polite.

"I guess."

"You're last name's not O'aka is it?"

"Huh? No."

"Oh good. I kinda like you guys, and it'd be a shame to turn you over for the bosses to work you over. This O'aka character's a traveling salesman, and apparently he conned the boss lady out of a lot of Gil. Supposedly found the greatest Sphere ever, and sold it to her...I never saw it, but she wasn't happy. Of course, 'less that youth League guy's around, she's never happy." Glenn gave Teityr a 'What can you do?' shrug, and raised his glass again in another salute, then set it back on the table. Teityr's eyes followed the glass, and he wondered why the guy wasn't drinking. He was just...waving the glass around.

"SO...Ether huh. I've always wondered why there's never any of that stuff in the stores. Is it hard to make? I mean, you could go farm some Fiends, but they don't drop that many-"

"Well, we have a Moogle. He kinda excretes it from his pom-pom."

"What? Gross."

Teityr laughed. He was far from the headache and pain now, and was feeling kinda fuzzy again. "Yeah, you should try bottling it. I gotta sit there and squeeze this thing sticking off his head, while he moans like he's well...y'know."

"Sounds like your job's worse then mine."

The young man thought back on that. Fleeing Kilika, fleeing Fiends, fleeing street-preachers, and bandits and thieves and Al Bhed...Wasn't there at least part of it he missed? Aside from all the fleeing, wasn't he really having fun, despite his protestations?

He decided he was not.

"I'm sick of this. I want to go back to Kilika. I want to go see Iya." He hesitated, realizing something was amiss. "Why did I say that?"

"Well, I could blame it on the drugs, but I am pretty charming. Where are you keeping this Mog, anyways?"

"What?" Teityr said, wavering in his chair.

Glenn grinned under his mask, and leaned forward. "Do you realize what kind of promotion I'll get if I bring that Moogle to the boss? Plus, all the benefits that go with it. There's a lot of folks out there looking for you two that'll pay good money for that little bear...dog...thingy."

"You...you're trying to steal Mog?" The youth scrambled to his feet, and the world started swaying again. "Damn..."

Frog man Glenn got to his feet, calmly attaching a claw to his wrist. "Please don't. I'd rather not get violent. Its not my style."

Something slammed into Teityr from behind, knocking him onto the table. "Thank you Cyrus."

"You still pretending to be all gentlemanly?" The new attacker -Cyrus- snapped. "Just take his bag. Its shaking a lot...that'll be where the Moogle is." He put his forearm to the back of Teityr's head, holding him down against the table. Vaguely, he could hear the innkeeper shouting a request for no violence in the bar. Jymbo yelled something too, but Teityr's head was swirling madly, and he couldn't grasp it.

"No! Get off me!" Teityr struggled, but Cyrus had the leverage, and held him down.

Glenn flipped open Teityr's bag. "Now, let's see what we've got here...What the..."

"Do you got it?" Cyrus asked, and Glenn started screaming in response. "What...what's wrong with you?" the second frog man asked. Glenn collapsed, clutching his nether parts and shrieking. Mog burst out from under the table, wielding a table leg twice his height in both paws. "Let him go or I'll take ya down! Hic-upo!"

The Mog floated into the air, drawing the attention of everyone in the bar. He swung the stick around awkwardly, obviously having had too much to drink. "I'll take you on...I'll take you all on hic-upo-po...po?" He cocked his head to the side, hesitating. Everyone was staring at him, and the vast majority of the patrons were green and pink frog people. "Froggy?" Mog asked loudly, and all the chairs in the building scooted back at once.

The table broke from its missing leg, and Teityr fell forward, flipping the frog man over his head. The frog men and women descended on Mog and Teityr, while the innkeeper shrieked for peace.

-------------

"Well...this is great. This is just...great." Shaker muttered to himself.

The Shakes family was bound, and the bandits had gagged Solt and Peppor, but left Shaker without gag because he hadn't spoken more then a whispered grumble since their capture. Even now, Solt and Peppor were mumbling to each other constantly, as though they could understand what the other was saying. The bandits were keeping mostly to themselves, chatting nonchalantly...though occasionally throwing dirty looks at the two muffled idiots beside him. When a bandit threw one of those looks his way, Shaker just shrugged.

"If you can find a way to shut 'em up, make sure you tell me."

The bandits exchanged glances, and then went back to whispering amongst themselves. Shaker sat quietly, hoping that whatever the bandits came up with involved killing Solt and Peppor, or leaving their own backs wide-open. Even a few seconds would be good...

Something large and purple landed on the floor in front of him, and for a moment Shaker thought the bandits were giving him something to eat. He looked up at them, about to snap off something sarcastic -when the purple thing bit him. Swearing and cursing, he leapt to his feet, dancing around comically as the brutal little beast kept its teeth deep in his kneecap. Finally, he kicked hard enough to send the little critter flying with a single tinny yelp of "KUUUPPPOOOO!"

Shaker forgot about the pain in his leg instantly. "Oh crap."

A woman's voice whispered suggestively, "One way to put it, my beloved..." The purple Moogle fluttered upwards on small wings, scowled bitterly at Shaker before flying over to the doorway. It landed on the shoulder of a woman as she strode in, smiling with chilling satisfaction. It landed on her shoulder, and stuck its tongue out at Shaker.

-------------

His eyes flickered and -through great effort- opened. W'ont Wor'ky raised his embattled body to a sitting position, trying to understand how he had come to be where he was. Not 'why under the light he'd become an armor smithy' -though he wondered that often, especially at times like these, of which there had been too many- but why he was in the blackest, smelliest, and all-around most-unpleasant cave he'd ever unconsciously floated into.

...and he'd unconsciously floated into a fair number of unpleasant caves.

W'ont pried his arms loose from his case of wares, and squinted, trying to hurry his eyes' adjustment to the seemingly perpetual darkness. Every strange noise caused him to jump, and he started to fear that perhaps he was not alone in said dark cave.

Something struck the ground nearby, and he lurched to his feet, raising his case as a shield. Blinking rapidly, he realized that it had only been rocks, falling from above. He peered upwards, trying to see what might have caused the rocks to dislodge...and then elicited a tiny, unmanly shriek that he would in later accounts deny.

Somehow, he'd ended up at the bottom of the Scar. Also known as "That big hole in the Calm Lands", where the Summoners had their great final battles against Sin. Something crashed from one cliff face to another, silhouetted against the sky far far above...He was definitely not alone.

He fumbled blindly into his case, picking out several pieces by feel. He clasped them on, trying desperately to be quiet. Something shifted nearby, and he carefully pulled the NotaSword from its sheath, preparing for battle.

Flames erupted from the ground, and the cave shook violently, throwing W'ont to the ground. With a curse, he planted the sword point down, trying to regain his balance. The flames kept erupting, however, and the earth cracked...

And a massive thing started crawling forth from the ground, roaring ferociously. A creature at least ten times the size of the human that had disturbed it. The flames did nothing to help illuminate it, and in fact twisted shadows and light in a way to make it even more fearsome: a hideous mockery that nearly drove him mad just looking upon it. It snaked out tentacles, trying to catch him in its grasp. W'ont's eyes tripled in size, and he stammered, forgetting the sword he was clutching as he backed away. "S-Sin-Sinspawn!"

How the beast had survived down in the Scar was beyond him, and quite frankly, he wasn't too concerned with the specifics. W'ont turned quickly, and began scrambling up the cliff face, terror giving him a strength he hadn't possessed even in the days of his youth.

The Sinspawn struggled to free itself from the stone where it had lain dormant, trying mindlessly to get to the tasty morsel that was threatening to escape its grasp. Tentacles sliding across the stone, it didn't notice anything aside from the retreating back of the little creature.

Not even the two beasts that emerged from a small cave from beside the creature, freed by its manic thrashings. The two beasts looked upwards to the fleeing human, then turned their gaze on the Sinspawn as it floundered about blindly, still weak from its slumber. They cackled insanely, a sound frighteningly human. The Sinspawn hesitated, realizing abruptly that it was also not alone, but then the two beasts were upon it, ripping and tearing into flesh weakened from years of hibernation, soft from years of hiding in the darkness.

W'ont didn't see the horrendous swiftness the monsters dispatched the Sinspawn with, nor did he see one break away, taking the cliff face in leaps and bounds. It was nearly upon W'ont when its partner howled, calling it back. W'ont continued climbing, oblivious of the claw hovering just behind him. The beast snarled, and slid back down the Scar, back into the darkness to feed.

-------------


End file.
